Eclipse
by B1ackbird
Summary: Following the events of DOTD, Spyro and Cynder find themselves lost, unable to find their way back to Warfang. They're still in the dragon realms, but the only way to get back home is a long and arduous journey. And they're not alone either. Stumbling upon a lost colony of dragons, our two heroes are quickly dragged into another conflict against a shadow, relentless foe.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Discovery

The bitter wind swirled around Cynder, making the black dragoness shiver and curl up against the unfeeling stone floor. Making sure that she was well incased under her magenta wings, Cynder tried to clear her jumbled thoughts, memories bouncing around randomly within her skull. A plunge into a fiery volcano. A giant stone monster, tearing its way into a crumbling stone building. A brightly lit valley, adorned with every type of wildflower imaginable. A purple dragon, cowering before her blows as she towered over him...

Cynder twitched, that last memory stirring a pit of negative emotions within her. It was bad enough remembering the terrible things she had once done, the many lives she had ended without so much as a hint of mercy. Now she was dreaming up new scenarios, in which a dark and twisted version of herself tormented those that she cared for, the ones that had seen her as something innocent, something other than the infamous Terror of the Skies. No, the best thing to do now was go back to sleep, and hope for brighter dreams. And before she knew it, she would be waking back up inside the dragon temple, ready to start a new day of training with Spyro by her side.

Except...hadn't they been about to assault the Mountian of Malefor, before the eternal night set in? Didn't she very clearly remember battling Gaul, the ape warlord, in a desperate attempt to prevent Malefor's resurrection? And, hadn't they failed?

Cynder's emerald eyes shot open, the pitch black cavern closing in all around her. She knew now, this was no dream. It had really happened, all of it. The war, the end of the world, the final battle against Malefor, it was all real. Desperately, Cynder shifted through those final few memories. He had been there right? Was he still alive? He had to be, he just had to. Unless pulling the world back together was just too much for him to take.

"S-Spyro?" Cynder's voice croaked out, the simple sound echoing off into the deepest corners of the cave. There was no reply. Sitting up, the dragoness squinted in the nonexistent light, trying to gauge her surroundings. Nothing, nothing but continued darkness. Cynder let out a low growl of frustration. She was a shadow dragon, this shouldn't pose an obstacle to her. Seeing through and blending into the shadows should be second nature to her. At least, it would be if she had actually grown up as a normal shadow dragon.

Dimly, the world slowly came into focus. Faint outlines mostly, but enough so that Cynder could orient herself. She was indeed in some sort of cavern, several bleak tunnels winding off away from her position. Jagged silhouettes of rocks surrounded her, sticking up at odd angles to the mostly level floor. But one of the rocks didn't look quite like the others. It was too smooth, and with an usual pair of stalagmites pointing up from one end. But most of all, even as Cynder continued to watch it, the rock moved.

Cynder's heart leaped up into her throat, and she quickly scrambled over to her feet. Stumbling across the debris-strewn ground, she all but fell on top of the dark shape. "Spyro! Spyro, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The other dragon's scales were cold to the touch, and for a split second Cynder feared the worst. Then the form stirred again, and Cynder saw Spyro's head lift a centimeter off the cold stone. "Cynder? Is that you?"

Cynder let out a breath of relief. "Yes, it's me, I'm here. Are you alright?"

Spyro started to rise to his feet, only to stop halfway, stricken by a sudden bout of coughing. As the sound reverberated throughout the chamber, Cynder took the opportunity to check herself for any injuries. Although she had an untold number of scrapes and bruises, it didn't feel like anything was broken. Her elemental reserves were already on empty, so there was no way she was up for any more fighting. But apart from that, she seemed to be relatively unharmed. Not bad after facing off against one of the most ruthless purple dragons ever to set foot in the dragon realms.

The coughing finally subsiding, and Cynder saw Spyro's head suddenly whip around wildly, as if he was searching for something. "Cynder? Where are you? I- I can't see, I think I might have gone blind! Cynder!"

"Spyro, relax." Cynder spoke gently, laying a single paw on the purple dragon's shoulders. "We're in a cave. I can just barely see things myself, I'm sure your eyesight is fine."

Spyro seemed to calm down, his head slowly rotating to where Cynder's voice was coming from. Deciding to take her word for it, he nodded. "Okay, in that case I think I'm alright. Now, how do we get out of here?"

Cynder reluctantly let her paw drop back to the ground. That was the part that she wasn't so sure about. But, there was one way she might be able to help.

Cynder was about as far away as you could get to being just a shadow dragon. Kidnapped as an egg, subjected against her will, she had managed to break free of the corruption, thanks mostly to the dragon sitting next to her, and go on to defeat the very master she once served. In perhaps the only benefit to her enslavement, she had come away with the command of four different elements: wind, poison, shadow, and fear. Abilities that might just show them the way out.

Already bordering on exhaustion, Cynder tapped into her wind element, trying to sense the air around her. If there was a way out of this cave, there was bound to be some sort of air flow, some breeze that they could trace back to the surface. She had to find it.

There. It was light, but it was definitely a wind current, blowing down from one of the passages leading into their chamber. "Over there, there's a breeze blowing into the tunnel." She said, pointing, realizing a split second later that Spyro couldn't see.

That's not to say that he didn't try. Cynder saw his head swivel around again before settling on a random point somewhere along the wall. "...over where?" He asked sheepishly, shuffling nervously around the cave floor.

Cynder couldn't help herself. She laughed, the sound ringing in the otherwise silent cave. "Sorry Spyro, I forgot you can't see a thing. Here," she offered, swinging her tail around to tap him lightly on the chest. "Grab my tail, I'll lead us out of here. Just watch out for the blade."

Spyro fumbled around for a few second before Cynder finally felt him wrap his paw around her appendage, just behind the curved sickle blade. Locating the wind current again, Cynder struck out into the caverns, the constant tug on her tail a remainder of her helpless charge. Hopefully, they weren't too deep down, or else they might not find their way out.

The path wasn't easy. Random boulders often blocked their way, and more often than not the loose stone slid under their feet as they pushed forward. Twice, Spyro lost his grip on her tail, leading to several minuets of confused stumbling about to meet back up. There seemed no end to the caves, as soon as they rounded a corner, another corridor stretched out before them. But Cynder didn't allow herself to give up hope. The wind was getting stronger, and she no longer needed her element to guild the way. They had to be almost there, she was sure of it.

At last, they saw it. A single beam of golden light, flooding down into the cave further along the corridor. Excited at the prospect of finally getting above ground, the dragons picked up the pace, all but racing neck and neck toward the light. Clawing her way up the final rock pile, Cynder squinted up towards the exit, brilliant sunlight shining down upon her black scales. They had done it, they had really done it. They had defeated Malefor, they had saved the world, and they had even managed to come out of it in one piece. All they had to do now was find the others, and it would be happily ever after. And Cynder wasn't worried in the slightest. After all, how hard could it be to make their way back to Warfang from wherever they had ended up?

With one last heave, Cynder stumbled out into the daylight. Shading her eyes with one of her wings from the intense light, Cynder gazed out at the landscape. They were at the top of a steep mountain, which offered them an almost unobstructed view. Off towards the east, there was only more rocky mountains, with little signs of life or habitation. Shifting her gaze westward, Cynder noticed a lush valley laid out before them. Lush trees stretched skyward, the rich green forest extending as far as she could see. She could even make out the sparkling blue of a river, winding its way through the wide valley. Everything looked so picturesque, with no indication of the havoc that Malefor had strewn there. The war really was over.

Spyro took his place next to her, also gazing out at the reborn world. They stood there in silence, simply enjoying the peace and quiet. After about a minute, Spyro turned to look at Cynder, nervously clearing his throat as he did. "So, um, Cynder..."

"Yes Spyro?" She replied, fixing him with an expectant stare. She felt nervous, strangely simultaneously excited and anxious over what he was about to say next. She would be lying to herself if she said that she didn't harbor some form of feelings toward her first and most reliable friend. She might have confessed something during that final battle, but her memory was a bit hazy in that respect. But the only question that concerned her was if he felt the same.

Spyro seemed to struggle with his words for a further minute before finally replying. "I just wanted to say.. Thanks. Thanks for always having my back the past couple of days. There's no way I could have done any of this without you."

Disappointment welled up within Cynder, but she managed to conceal the emotion behind a toothy grin. Giving Spyro a playful nudge, Cynder shook her head. "Are you kidding? You're the one that pulled the world back together. You're the hero here Spyro." Cynder quickly looked away, surveying the valley again for any recognizable landmarks. But the landscape with utterly unfamiliar.

Spyro chuckled. "Regardless, my point still stands. You were just as important, just as vital as I was. You're just as much of a hero as I am Cynder."

Cynder nodded, not trusting herself to respond. No matter what Spyro said, she had done terrible things in the past. The most she could hope for was atonement, not heroic status. After realizing that she wasn't going to respond, Spyro sighed and turned his gaze back outward. "So, I hope you know where we are, because none of this is familiar to me in the slightest."

"I was going to ask you the exact same thing." Cynder muttered. Their best shot at a speedy return at this point in time was to locate the nearest settlement and ask for directions. The surrounding terrain was far too barren and desolate to support any form of serious habitation, so the only alternative had to be toward the west, towards the distant valley.

Spyro evidentially had arrived at the same conclusion. Standing up, he stretched his wings, the golden membranes dulled by the fine layer of dust that clung to both of them. "We might as well start over there. Are you okay to fly?"

"Yeah, and it would be nice to get all of this dust off." Cynder said, standing and stretching as well. "Oh, and Spyro, one last thing..."

"What?"

"Last one to the river is a rotten egg!" Cynder shouted, launching off into the sky with a mighty leap. With a few powerful flaps, she was soaring through the air, leaving the cave entrance far behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Spyro take off in hot pursuit, intent on catching up to the sly dragoness. Grinning, Cynder put on an extra burst of speed, furthering the distance between them. This was going to be fun.

Swooping in low to the ground, Cynder hugged the rocky ridges, the lush forests drawing nearer with every passing second. It felt so good to be up in the air again, freed from any earthly concerns or troubles. There was no past looming over her, no Dark Master to fear or cower from. Just the endless bounds of open sky, dotted with just a few pearly white clouds. Pure bliss.

She was over the forest now, the whispering leaves below her shaking and shifting in the refreshing breeze. She risked another look behind her, trying to gauge how great of a lead she still had over Spyro. The purple dragon was surprisingly lagging behind, having just crossed the threshold of the forest himself. Either he was more exhausted than he was letting on, or he was allowing her an easy win. Didn't matter which was the case, it still meant that he lost.

Folding her wings tight against her body, Cynder plunged earthward, the ever shifting river directly below her. She entered the water with a splash, instantly sinking down into the clear abyss, the dust washing off of her scales in a white cloud. She floated down there for several seconds, doing nothing but watching the air bubbles rise to the surface as the sunlight glittered and shimmered through the water's surface.

Finally, her lungs just starting to burn from the lack of air, she lurched into motion again, paddling back up to the surface. Sucking in a deep breath of air, Cynder craned her head skyward, searching for the purple blot she knew was still up there somewhere. Surprisingly, Spyro was no where to be found, the sky completely vacant apart from a few brightly colored songbirds flirting among the trees. Cynder frowned, confused. She had a large lead on Spyro, that was for sure, but he should have showed up by now. Where was he?

After trending water for another minute, Cynder finally turned and made for the closest shore. The gentle current pulled at her incessantly, but she resisted, making a beeline for land. Stepping onto the muddy beach, she shook herself off, sending water droplets flying every which way. The warm sun beating against her back, Cynder checked around her surroundings once again, wary of an ambush. There was no telling what Spyro might be up to, and if he was already lying in wait for her nearby. She would just have to find him first.

Setting out a brisk pace, Cynder wandered into the wood, paying attention to anything out of the ordinary. Melodious bird songs filled the air, and insects buzzed by her ears, nature continuing on as normal. Nothing seemed to be out of place, so if Spyro had landed somewhere, it probably wasn't near her immediate location. A sudden flash of neon green caught her eye, and Cynder turned to locate the source. It was a small patch of green gems, the crystal structures protruding from the otherwise unblemished ground. Walking briskly over to the gem patch, Cynder laid her claws upon the gems, sighing with relief as energy returned to her body. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to remove the feelings of exhaustion that had plagued her. And opened up the possibility of using elemental powers once again.

"Alright Spyro," Cynder murmured, checking to make sure the purple dragon hadn't been sneaking up on her while she recharged. "Where are you?"

Cynder's head snapped up, listening to the faint sounds echoing back to her through the forest. Something was traveling, and at a pretty fast rate. That had to be him. Smirking, Cynder crouched low, moving through the suddenly silent woods. Spyro wouldn't know what hit him.

She was closing in on the source of the disturbance. The sound on snapping twigs echoed back to her, along with what sounded like heavy breathing. Cynder paused, listening more closely. It didn't sound like Spyro, and if it did, it didn't sound like he was doing alright. Concern outweighing her playful ambush, Cynder pushed forward, squeezing in between the trees with sudden urgency. "Spyro? Are you-"

Cynder stopped, staring at the sight before her in surprise. This wasn't Spyro at all, this was...something else entirely. Brown, matted fur clung to the beasts body, covered with stray twigs and dust. Its hulking, muscled shoulders stood as high as her head, the flesh beneath containing a great deal of power. The creatures rear was less developed, lacking the beefy frontal legs in exchange for a leaner, more sinewy build culminating in a stout tail. Cynder knew that this beast was a predator, and judging by its size, it wouldn't mind snacking on a dragon for lunch.

The creature was preoccupied, swatting at a twisted bunch of brambles with its gigantic paws, letting out low yelps as it repeatedly pricked itself on the thorns. Then, it stopped, lifting its head to sniff at the air. Slowly, the creature turned to face her, its twin black eyes boring into her with a feral ferocity. A long muzzle extended from the creatures scarred face, the overall appearance reminiscent of canines in construction. Thick globules of drool dropped to the forest floor, running over an uninterrupted row of razor sharp teeth. Turing away from the brambles, the beast faced her, legs coiling in preparation of a pursuit.

Cynder quickly ran through a mental list of options, ruling out each one as she came to it. She could fly, but there was no telling how long it would take for her to get safely out of the creature's clawed reach. She also didn't like the idea of going up close and personal with such a powerful beast either, so that just left elemental possibilities. But at the same time, Cynder didn't really want to kill the creature. It was an animal, only looking for a meal, nothing more. There had to be an easy way out of this.

The idea came to her, even as the beast began to stalk forward. Widening herself out into a level stance, Cynder made eye contact with the creature, staring into its unintelligent, hungering gaze. Drawing on her newly replenished elemental reserve, Cynder's own eyes slowly began to change color, shifting from emerald to a hellish red. The beast faltered, suddenly unsure over whether to attack this strange, black scaled creature. Cynder increased her gaze, the fear state boring into the creature. It shouldn't take too much longer.

Finally the creature snorted, shaking its head as if to rid itself of a pesky fly. Turning away from Cynder, the creature lopped off into the woods, quickly vanished among the tree trunks, bound for parts unknown. Cynder's eyes slowly returned to their normal shade as the fear element subsided. It was one of her least favorite abilities, as it reminded her too much of her enslaved days, but it had saved her from a long and possibly deadly confrontation. Fear did have its uses after all.

With several sharp snaps, the pile of brambles that the beast had been investigating began to move and shake, whatever was within starting to claw its way out. Cynder watched, curious about the prey the creature had been hunting. Judging from the amount of shaking, it was too large for a rabbit or other small creature, and Cynder doubted that a deer could wedge itself down in the thorn bush. It wasn't until the pair of gold horns rose out of the bush did Cynder realize that the beast's prey hadn't been a woodland prey after all. It had been a dragon.

A young dragon, to be more accurate. He tentative stepped out of the prickly thorns, watching the space in between the trees that the beast had disappeared to. His scales were pure white, and shone brightly in the morning sun as he stood nervously outside of his temporary refuge. Rich gold scales covered his chest and wings, matching the shade of his two horns that gracefully rose from his head. He had a medium build, not overly large but not lacking as far as muscles went either. His tail, still contained within the brambles, ended in what looked like a dull spade. He was facing away from her, staring out into the woods, still checking to make sure that the threat was really gone. As she watched the dragon, Cynder noticed a thin line of blood running down the dragon's left side, stemming from a shallow cut to the dragon's wing membranes. A wound that was presumably inflicted by the beast that Cynder had just scared off.

Finding her voice, Cynder spoke. "Hello, are you-" The other dragon jumped, spinning around as he was suddenly made aware of her presence. His hazel eyes grew wide at the sight of her, and he began to back away, looking quite terrified of her.

"He must recognize me." Cynder thought, her hopes sinking like a stone. "He's afraid."

Deciding to approach the dragon, Cynder raised her voice once more. "Please, I don't mean you any harm, I just-"

A searing pain jumped across Cynder's chest, forcing her to stumbled back in agony. The pain continued to linger, burning into the affected scales, almost like she was on fire. Looking back up, Cynder saw the tail of the dragon disappear into the woods, fleeing as fast as he could from her. Pushing the pain from her mind, Cynder chased after him, intending to set the record straight. This could be the key to getting her and Spyro back to Warfang, and she was not about to let it slip away.

The dragon wasn't hard to follow, as he made absolutely no effort to conceal his route. She began to close the distance, and brief flashes of white could be seen between the trees. Tearing through one last bush, Cynder emerged into a clearing, the tall grass swaying around her as she charged forward. The other dragon as already there, and had turned around to check if he was still being pursued. Upon seeing her, he stopped, lowering his head as he faced Cynder down. "Stay back!" He yelled, this time not moving from his position, as he prepared to fire another elemental volley.

This time, Cynder saw it coming. Diving to the side, she narrowly avoided the beam of bright, white light that arced out of the dragon's maw, the beam traveling onwards to seamlessly cut through the bush directly behind her. That...that wasn't lightning that the other dragon had just shot. Cynder skidded to a halt, suddenly wary of this dragon. What in the world was he capable of?

Before she could ponder on this new development, the other dragon began to charge up again, and Cynder was put on the defensive. Running around the edge of the clearing, Cynder narrowly dodged two more elemental bursts, each of them radiating a burning heat as it passed by. Cutting inward, Cynder rushed at the dragon, even as he lined up another shot. He wasn't going to listen to a word that she said as long as they were fighting, meaning that the only solution was going to be to incapacitate him. Then, maybe they could have a nice, civil conversation.

Cynder wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the next burst, the burning pain shooting through her shoulder as the beam scorched her scales. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Cynder responded by drawing upon her own elemental powers. It was time to fight back for real. Channeling her shadow element, a cloud of absolute darkness descended upon the clearing, obscuring all from sight. Now, the other dragon couldn't see her, and Cynder might have a chance to gain the upper hand.

Even as she stalked forward, careful not to make any noises that might alert him to her presence, another brilliant white beam sliced through the cloud, cutting through the place that she been a second before. Cynder frowned, the blinding light almost enough to make her lose her concentration. That shouldn't have happened, nothing should have been able to cut through her cloak of shadows, especially not the light from an elemental attack. Something weird was going on here.

Deciding that she was close enough, Cynder leap forward, aiming for the place that she knew the other dragon to be. Even as she sailed through the air, Cynder heard the dragon shift among the tall grasses. There was a echoing bang, and Cynder's world turned white. Squeezing her eyes shut against the unexpected pain, Cynder crashed and tumbled across the ground, the shadows lifting as she lost her grip on her elemental powers. The afterimages still burning in her retinas, Cynder staggered to her feet, shaking her head to clear her mind. That was going to be the last time she underestimated this dragon, that was for sure.

Her vision clearing somewhat, Cynder looked up, searching for her adversary. He was still there, standing a few dozen paces away, already preparing to fire another beam her way. Spreading her wings, Cynder took to the sky, the white beam traveling harmlessly beneath her. Thankfully, the other dragon's wound prevented him from following, and all he could do was watched her circle the clearing above him.

Pulling up sharply, Cynder effortlessly dodged another beam, her maneuverability in the skies making it much easier to avoid the other dragon's shots. As she continued to circle, Cynder tried to come up with a way to end this fight without resorting to injuring the dragon. Shadows hadn't worked, so maybe one of her other elements could. Fear was out of the question, as was poison if she wanted to convince the other dragon she didn't mean him any harm. But, if she could find a way to stun him with her wind element, that might just prove to be a viable solution. It was her only hope.

But before Cynder could begin her new strategy, a strange shimmer in front of her caught her attention. Before she could roll aside or otherwise change course, a solid barrier materialized in front of her, the glowing blue forcefields blocking her path. Even as she slowed herself, Cynder collided with the barriers her wings instantly crumpling as she fell earthward. Flaring her wings again at the last second, she managed to slow her downward fall out of bone-breaking speeds, and into a more manageable impact. That's not to say that it didn't hurt though.

Groaning, Cynder slowly raised herself from the ground, her whole body aching from the abuse. The other dragon faced her, hesitating on delivering the next blow. Cynder took the opportunity to try and gauge the other dragon's emotions. He was no killer, that much she could tell just from the nervous way his tail swayed back and forth behind him. He seemed to be acting purely out of fear, fear of her, fear of whatever he though she was going to do to him. And she knew more than anyone else, fear could make you do terrible, terrible things.

Before the other dragon could make up his mind as to whether or not to try and finish her off, a purple blur sped down from the heavens. Colliding into the white dragon's side, the two bodies bounced and rolled across the field, sending a cloud of flowers and grass flying up in their wake. Finally, they came to a rest, with Spyro securely pinning the other dragon to the ground. Cynder let out a breath of relief. Spyro had finally found her.

"Let go of me! Or she's going to kill us both!" The white dragon shouted, struggling against Spyro's pinning hold. Spyro and Cynder's eyes met briefly from across the field, the simple look conveying all that Spyro needed to now about the encounter.

Maintaining his secure hold on the other dragon, Spyro responded, his voice stern and surprisingly authoritative. "Listen to me, she's not going to hurt us. She may have once been the Terror of the Skies, but that was a long time ago. We just want to talk."

The other dragon paused, shooting a very confused glance up at his captor. "Terror of the what? You don't understand, that's not a dragon, that's a demon!"

"Demon?" Spyro repeated, looking up to stare at Cynder. All she could do was give an equally confused state right back. Demons? What was this dragon taking about?

Sensing Spyro's momentary lapse in concentration, the white dragon bucked hard, the tip of his horn digging into Spyro's chest. The purple dragon gasped and fell back, allowing the other dragon to scramble to his feet. Shooting one last terrified glance at Cynder, he took off running, aiming for a quick retreat back into the woods. He didn't get far.

Recovering quickly, Spyro opened his mouth, a narrow cone of green energy spiraling out toward the retreating dragon. The concussive earth blast connected, sending the other dragon flailing through the air. He slammed into the truck on a nearby tree, before tumbling down to the ground. He lay there, unmoving, knocked unconscious from the blow. The fight was over.

After making sure that the white dragon was not about to rise, Spyro made his to where Cynder stood. "Are you okay Cynder?"

Cynder took in a deep breath, gently prodding the places where the other dragon had struck her. They stung, but she could tell that it wasn't a very serious injury. "I think so. Where were you?"

"At the river." He replied. "I thought you would be there waiting for me." Nodding to himself, he turned to look at the comatose white dragon. "So, he just attacked you?"

"I think he'll say it as self defense." Cynder bowed her head. "I'm sorry Spyro, because of me, the first dragon we met is trying to kill us."

"You have nothing to be sorry for Cynder, especially since he doesn't seem to know of your past." Spyro frowned, cocking his head to the strange dragon. "Which I find very hard to believe unless he's spent the past decade underground."

"So, what now?" Cynder asked, turning her gaze toward her savior. If he hadn't shown up when he did, who knows how this might have otherwise turned out.

Spyro sighed, absentmindedly rubbing the small scratch caused by the other dragon's horn. "I guess we wait for him to wake up. There's not much else we can do I think."

Cynder nodded numbly, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. Spyro started forward, making his way over to stand next to the unconscious dragon. After a quick check to make sure that his wounds weren't life threatening, Spyro gently flipped the dragon over onto his belly. There was a slight tremor in the ground, and a simple earthen bond rose up and incased the dragon's two forepaws, ensuring that he couldn't run away or make any moves to attack without receiving a swift retribution. Cynder slowly made her way over to him, sitting down in the shade. She had a very bad feeling about this whole situation. It seemed as though they had stumbled upon some new conflict or war, even more blood shed on top of what they had already gone through. And worst of all, Cynder knew by now that Warfang wasn't just over the next mountain. They were lost, and Cynder could only wonder how they would find their way home.

**A/N: I'm back! And with a brand new story to boot. Oh I'm going to have fun writing this one, I can already tell.**

**Now, as far as updates go, I'm still pretty busy with school, life, and all the other things I have going on. I'm going to shoot for a two week schedule, but no promises. The next chapter is also a short one, so I may end up getting it out sooner rather than later. But I guess we'll just have to see.**

**Any feedback is always appreciated, good or bad, and I hope everyone enjoys the story. It's good to be back.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Lost

Spyro tapped an impatient claw to the ground, his eyes firmly fixed on the captive dragon before them. He still hadn't woken up, and it was starting to get around midday. The earthen shackles Spyro had created still wrapped around the dragon's forepaws, a measure designed to avoid a repeat of the fight. Apart from that, there wasn't exactly much that either of them could do, beside sit and wait. And wait. And wait.

Beside him, Cynder stirred from where she lay in the shade, resting her head down on her outstretched forepaws. Spyro spared her a quick glance before turning away. He knew she was taking this badly, considering that another dragon had mistaken her for something monstrous. He wanted to comfort her, but he just wasn't sure how. Why was this so hard for him?

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Spyro instead chose to ponder another mystery before them. The fact that while the white dragon was afraid of Cynder, he didn't seem to know about her past as the Terror of the Skies. Instead, he had called her a demon. Spyro had ventured far and wide in his relatively short life, but he had never once come across a creature he would call a demon. But no matter how much he tried to reason with the issue, it remained entirely unanswerable, the only solution currently knocked out cold.

At least the weather was pleasant. A few more clouds had popped into existence, but the occasional shade they brought was more of the blessing rather than a curse. The hot sun beat down upon the young dragons, and Spyro was grateful for the plentiful cover the sweeping oak provided them. The beast that Cynder had chased off earlier hadn't come back, and the only other creature present was an erratic brown squirrel, leaping from branch to branch overhead. Spyro sighed. This was the sort of day that they deserved to rest and relax in, and not solve another mystery.

"Spyro?" Cynder spoke softly, her gaze still set upon the white dragon. "Why does this always happen? Dragons always take one glance at me, as just...run the other way."

"Cynder, it's not your fault." Spyro looked down at the beautiful dragoness before him. "Look at me." Cynder slowly raised her head, her emerald eyes meeting with his violet ones. Spyro took a breath, steeling his nerves for what he was about to say.

"It was Malefor. You had no choice in the matter, because I know that if you had, you would have never done any of those things. Because that's not you Cynder, it never was."

She looked away, but Spyro continued on anyways. "Cynder, please, don't do this to yourself. The actions that you take today define who you are, not the ones in the past. You're my best friend Cynder, and to be perfectly honest," Spyro paused, nerves almost getting the better of him. But he had to say this, he just had to. "Cynder, I just want to tell you that-"

A low groan interrupted him, both of them freezing at the sound. The white dragon was waking up, shaking his head blearily as his hazel eyes flickered open. Glancing downwards, Spyro saw the dragon's eyes widen in shock at the crude earthen bonds locking him in place. Fruitlessly tugging at his prison, the dragon didn't appear to notice Spyro and Cynder, instead being fully fixated on getting free as quickly as possible. And considering that Spyro was by no means a master of the earth element, that would probably happen soon, the bonds already beginning to crack under the strain.

Stepping forward, Spyro entered the dragon's field of vision, causing him to look up sharply. "Don't worry, we just want to talk." Spyro quickly interjected, hoping to diffuse the fight before it began. The dragon seemed to regard him with a reserved expression, and for one second Spyro thought he might actually consider the offer. Then, the dragon's eyes darted over to Cynder, and he immediately tensed, an expression of deep mistrust crossing his face. He was smart enough not to open fire while he was trapped, but once the bonds were broken, all bets were off.

Spyro glanced back towards Cynder, who had also risen to her feet, trying to work out how they were going to approach this situation. Looking a little stung from the dragon's cold attitude, Cynder jerked her head, signaling Spyro to come closer. Turning his back on their mysterious guest, Spyro trotted over to her, the pair putting their heads together in an impromptu conference.

"His wing is still hurt." Cynder whispered, leaning in close to Spyro. Craning his neck, Spyro saw the mostly dried blood staining the dragon's left side, an injury that had most likely been inflicted by the predator. As they talked, Spyro noted that the white dragon had resumed clawing at the earth shackles, intent only on a quick escape. Cynder continued. "If we could find some red gems to give to him, it might convince him that we don't mean any harm."

Spyro nodded in agreement. It was a good idea, and it would probably be prudent to start looking for gems anyway. After all, Cynder was hurt from the fighting as well, and Spyro would be lying if he said that he didn't want the various bumps and scrapes incurred during the final battle against Malefor healed as well. "Would you mind doing that Cynder? You've always had a sharper eye for spotting gems."

Cynder thought about it for a few seconds before nodding. "Sure, no problem. But if he gets free, just shout and I'll come right back here to help." Spyro nodded and Cynder turned away, shooting one last glance back at the white dragon as she departed, quickly vanishing in between the trees. Orienting himself back toward the base of the oak, Spyro strode back toward the other dragon, trying to figure out how best to approach him. With any luck, he should be able to calm the dragon down before Cynder returned, and they could finally get some answers.

Having already freed one of his paws, the dragon was halfway through wiggling his other trapped limb out of his prison when Spyro sat back down in front of him a little ways away. Looking back up, the other dragon performed a quick scan of the landscape, eyes darting to and fro as he searched. "Is she gone?" The white dragon asked anxiously, speaking aloud for the first time since waking.

"Yes, she's going to get some red gems for that injury of yours." Spyro replied, relived that the other dragon was at least talking. Now they were getting somewhere.

The other dragon finally looked at Spyro, his expression changing to one of curiosity as he studied the dragon seated before him. "Are you really a purple dragon? That's not a scale dye, or something like that, right?"

Spyro allowed himself a small grin. Even to dragons that were completely cut off from civilization, he was still universally recognized. "I am." Spyro inclined his head toward the other dragon. "And forgive me for asking, but I'm not entirely familiar with the element that you wield. What is it?"

The other dragon cocked his head sideways, still intently watching Spyro's every motion. "Light, of course. What else could it be?" The dragon answered, speaking as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. If anything, he seemed a little miffed that Spyro hadn't known.

Spyro nodded, absorbing the new information. His instruction under the guardians had been brief, and the subject of elements not directly under either his or Cynder's command had never come up. He supposed such things could exist, but it still came as a surprise. Deciding to shift topics, Spyro posed another question. "What's your name?"

But the other dragon wasn't paying attention. He had already gone back to picking away at the shackle that still held one of his forelegs in place. Deciding that the dragon was unlikely to bolt at this point, Spyro tapped into his elemental reserves. The earth binding crumbled, dissolving to dust in a matter of seconds. The dragon leapt to his feet, letting out an exclamation of surprise, head jerking back and forth between Spyro and the ground. "Did..did you do that?"

Spyro let out a chuckle. "Purple dragon, remember? I can use all four of the main elements at will. Fire, Electricity, Ice, and Earth."

The other dragon stared at him in amazement for the span of several seconds, the silence stretching out between them. Standing up, Spyro moved forward, offering an outstretched paw to the other dragon. "Sorry I had to trap you like that, I don't think we got off on the right foot. I'm Spyro."

The other dragon stared at the offered paw for several moments before hesitantly reaching up to clasp it with one of his own. Letting go just as quickly, the other dragon spoke. "Evanstar. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, master Spyro."

"Evanstar?" Spyro repeated, making sure that he had heard the other dragon's name right. "That's a bit of a mouthful to say. Do you have any nicknames, or..."

"What?" The other dragon stared at Spyro in complete bewilderment. "No, it's not- I don't-"

The other dragon stopped taking a deep breath, still staring at Spyro as if he had flowers sprouting from his horns. Finally, the white dragon let out a sigh, rubbing the end of his snout with one of his free paws. "Corin. My name is Corin Evanstar."

"Oh." Spyro fidgeted, suddenly aware of his error. "Sorry Corin, my mistake. And you don't have to use any formalities with my name, it's just Spyro."

Corin frowned. "Just Spyro? That's it, nothing else?"

"Nothing else." Spyro affirmed, Corin still watching him with a perplexed expression. Giving a half-hearted shrug, the light dragon turned away, presumably checking to make sure that Cynder hadn't returned yet. It was odd, Spyro reflected, that the dragon had introduced himself by his surname first. To his knowledge, no other dragons did that, not even ones as pompous as the ice guardian, Cyril. Could this dragon be someone of importance?

"So, Corin, why did you feel the need to attack my friend?" Spyro asked, his voice a little lower and more pressing. "She's not the Terror of the Skies anymore, and she wasn't going to hurt you."

Corin stared at Spyro blankly. "Listen, Spyro, I really have no idea what you're talking about. What in the world is a Terror of the Skies?"

Now it was Spyro's turn to blink in surprise. "You...don't know? About the war, about the Dark Master?"

"Of course I know about the war." Corin scoffed, pacing around the base of the oak. "We've been fighting those demons for almost nine years now. But what was that about a Dark Master? Is that their king, or something like that?"

"Hold up." Spyro said, silencing Corin's ramble. "I don't think we're quite on the same page here. What are these so called demons that you keep mentioning? The beast from earlier, the one that my friend scared off, was that one of them?"

"That?" Corin shook his head. "No, that was a Fell. You've never encountered one before? Apex predators, very ferocious and very hungry." Corin winced, carefully extending his injured wing to reveal three lateral cuts through the membrane. "They're not really a threat as long as you don't get too close. But that one Fell managed to sneak up on me after I got separated from the others. And, well..."

Others? There are more dragons out here? Maybe they weren't so lost after all. Before Spyro could ask Corin about it, the light dragon suddenly whipped around, staring at Spyro with an expression of sudden realization. "Wait a second, why are you even asking me about the demons? You're working with them already!"

"Cynder is not one of these demon." Spyro crouched low, watching Corin carefully for any sudden movements. "She's a dragon, just like you and me."

Corin's tail waved out behind him, even as the light dragon seemed to contemplate Spyro's words. "She's not?"

"No."

Corin eased up his stance slightly, but he still looked apprehensive. "But, her scales, they're dark."

"She's a shadow dragon." Spyro replied.

"Well, that's not exactly much better." Corin said, rolling his eyes.

"What was that?" Spyro shot, narrowing his eyes. What exactly was so bad about shadow dragons?

"Nothing, it was nothing." Corin quickly stammered out, perhaps sensing the hostility in the air. Birdsongs filled the air once again, as the two dragons faced each other, each unsure of how to proceed.

Spyro had a bad feeling about this. The fact that one of his very best friends had just been insulted didn't sit well with him, but he couldn't afford to get on Corin's bad side as well. He was still their only clue as to where they might have ended up. As much as he loathed to do so, Spyro decided to let the comment go and pursue another approach to ease the tensions. "Corin, could you at least tell me what these demons look like? Is that what they really are? Demons?"

"Well...not really." Corin looked away. "My dad usually calls them Defilers, and I've heard about a dozen other names used interchangeably. Truth is, we really don't know what they are." Corin finished, shooting a sidelong glance at Spyro. When the purple dragon didn't speak, Corin continued on. "And if you're right about your friend not being one, then I've only ever seen a Defiler from far away."

Corin took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he called up the memory. "They're just a little larger than you or me. And they were have these two burning red orbs for eyes, and..." Corin trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "It's hard to explain, but they're not really...here."

"Here?" Spyro asked. Corin seemed to be a rational dragon by any standards, but what was he going on about? Sure, there were no red-eyed menaces currently lurking nearby them at the moment, but Spyro had the feeling that wasn't what Corin had meant.

The white dragon nodded. "Yeah, like I said, it's hard to explain. You'd have to see one for yourself. But they're not fully corporeal, or solid, or physically here most of the time. It's like they're made of smoke, here one minute, gone the next."

Spyro frowned, pondering Corin's revelation. That didn't sound like anything either he or Cynder had ever encountered. "Can you even kill them?" He wondered aloud, still trying to envision such a monstrosity. No matter what he came up with though, Spyro got the distinct impression that his imagination simply wasn't up to the task.

"Oh, yeah, they're still killable." Corin nodded enthusiastically. "We would have lost a long time ago if they weren't. It's no easy feat, but it can be done."

"Still," Spyro pointed out. "Cynder is most certainly 'here' and she even has green eyes as opposed to red. She's not one of these Defilers you're talking about."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Corin said, absentmindedly fiddling with a rock on the ground. "It's just that we're on the edge of Defiler territory, and I though that with the dark scales..."

Shrugging it off, Corin quickly switched gears. "Now, I need some answers from you." Corin stood up straight again, speaking before Spyro could pose another question. "Where did you come from? I've never seen any dragons even close in shading to you or your friend. What, did you just...pop out of the ground or something?"

Spyro laughed. "Actually, that may not be too far from the truth. It's a long story, but I guess the answer you're looking for is that we're trying to work our way back to the city of Warfang. Do you have any idea as to where that is?"

"Warfang?" Corin seemed to consider Spyro for a moment before shrugging. "Never heard of it. But, if I were to guess, I would say that it's probably someplace across the sea."

"Across the sea?" Spyro repeated slowly, his hopes plummeting as he heard the news. They were on a completely different continent?

Corin, not noticing Spyro's disheartened expression, rambled on. "Oh wait, I think I remember Warfang from my history classes. It was the dragon capital of the world, where dragons of every element could meet and trade." Corin straightened his back, a proud smile gracing his lips. "But not us. No, the Celtacs left that society a long time ago. We thought we could build a better life for ourselves, and we did." Corin's smile dropped by a few ticks. "At least until the Defilers showed up."

But Spyro wasn't listening. His friends, his brother, everybody they he had ever known, all of them were separated from him by an entire ocean. Miles upon miles of nothing but sheer water. If he flew out in the wrong direction, there was a very real chance that he would become too exhausted to stay in the air long before reaching land. He had hoped that after all that they had gone through, he and Cynder could just settle back and relax. Instead, they were lost, completely and utterly lost. How were they ever going to get back to Warfang now?

**********••••••••••

"There, that ought to do it." Cynder pulled the last gem free of the soft earth with one last determined pull, the red crystal sparkling in the sunlight. Carefully reaching backwards, Cynder added it to the small stash nestled in between her wing and back. Finding the gems had been harder than she had initially imagined, and she had just now finally got enough to heal the mystery dragon's wounds. At least, she hoped it would be enough. It had already taken her long enough to find gems to heal her own wounds, and she was sure at this point that the immediate area was tapped dry.

Reorienting herself, she struck off back towards where she had last left Spyro. She hadn't heard anything that might resemble a fight, so maybe Spyro had managed to convince the other dragon to calm down. And if he hadn't, then maybe the gems could always change his mind.

As she walked through the woods, Cynder allowed her mind to wander a little. Namely, to the conversation that she and Spyro had been having just before their friend had woken up. She recalled back to the words of comfort that he had spoken to her, a light blush reddening her scales. It had been so sweet of him to try and comfort her like that, especially when she really needed it. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a crazy idea that he might just reciprocate the feelings that she had developed for him. Cynder felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered the possibility. Once they had sorted out their situation with the mystery dragon, she would ask him. She knew that she had to.

A flash of red out of the corner of her eye caught Cynder's attention, causing the dragoness to slow to a stop. Turning her head, Cynder squinted at the patch of bushes, trying to confirm what she had seen. It had only been for a second, but she was positive it had been something bright red, shining through the leaves of the bush. Odd, she could have sworn that she had already been this way, and that she had already nabbed all the red gems in the area. Chalking it up as an oversight on her part, Cynder trotted over to the patch of bushes flourishing around the base of another towering tree, the leaves whispering in the wind the only sound as she approached, the nearby birds eerily silent.

Careful not to spill the gems she had already gathered, Cynder pealed aside the plentiful branches, peering inside to get a glimpse at the elusive gems. There was nothing there, only more branches and leaves, nothing like the bright flash of red she was sure that she saw. After checking around the bush one last time, Cynder backed away, trying to see what may have possibly caused her to think that there were gems there. But the bush only remained just as green and unremarkable as before, devoid of anything that might resemble red gems.

Cynder lingered there for a few seconds longer before finally shaking her head and turning away. Maybe she just needed a good night's sleep, she was starting to see things. And besides, she had better get back to the others, she would just have to make do with the gems she already got.

If Cynder had happened to glance upwards towards the upper branches of the tree, she might have seen it. Two gleaming red orbs, staring down from one of the upper branches, silently monitoring every last movement the dragoness below made. Quite suddenly, the eyes blinked shut, and the presence vanished, leaving only a set of deep gouges in the wood behind as evidence that it had ever been there in the first place.

Unaware of the close encounter, Cynder pressed on, closing in on where Spyro and the other dragon were sure to be. As she stepped back around the trunk of another patch of trees, the two dragons slid into view, both of them casually seated at the base of the oak. Catching sight of her, the white dragon quickly jumped upright, but he didn't run or otherwise charge up another elemental attack. Taking that as a sign of progress, Cynder walked up to the two dragons, dipping her wing to let the red gems spill out onto the ground before the white dragon.

"Here, I hope these help with your wing." Cynder forced herself to relax, trying to appear as friendly as possible. They needed this dragon to trust them if they were going to get anywhere.

He seemed to regard her cautiously for a few moments before hesitantly reaching forward to take the gems. Red energy leaped and jumped up his limbs, targeting spots on his left wing and head. Opening his now unblemished yellow wing, the dragon spared a short glance toward Cynder. "Thanks." He said gruffly, folding his wing back into its resting position.

"It was no problem." Cynder waited a beat before holding out her paw toward the white dragon. "I'm Cynder by the way."

The dragon glanced between Spyro and Cynder, apparently debating over what to do. Not making any move to shake Cynder's paw, he finally signed and spoke aloud. "Evanstar." He said, still not making any move to shake paws with her. Still, it was as much as she could expect from someone who had fought her just an hour previous.

Realizing that the white dragon had no intention of of shaking paws, Cynder slowly lowered the offered appendage. Determined not to let it get to her, she put on her most pleasant expression. "Evanstar?" Cynder tilted her head, meeting the other dragon's stare. "That's a rather unusual name."

"It's not-" The dragon let out an exasperated sigh. "Evanstar is my family name. Corin is my first name. Do neither of you go by your family name? It's common curtesy!"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged a wry look. "This is going to sound crazy," Spyro began. "But I was sort of raised by dragonflies. I don't have a family name. Like I said before, its just Spyro."

Corin stared in blatant disbelief, completely thrown off by Spyro's statement. Cynder quickly looked away, not quite willing to reveal why she didn't have a family name. It might put a bit of a damper on things, considering that she had never quite had a family. Thankfully, Corin didn't seem keen on pressing for details.

"Anyways," Spyro said, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his forepaws, looking uncomfortable with at Corin's unwavering stare. "You were saying something about a recon mission Corin."

Blinking away the surprise, Corin nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's why I'm out here. Trying to get a better picture of what's been going on the past few days."

"All by yourself?" Cynder asked, raising her eyebrows. Sure, Corin certainly knew a thing or two about fighting, but there was no telling how many more beasts were out there, waiting for the opportunity to strike. She and Spyro at least had each other to rely on, but one slip up on Corin's part could spell disaster. If she hadn't shown up when she did...

"No, not by myself." Corin gave a forced laugh. "I was part of one of the scouting groups that were sent out to investigate the source of the recent earthquakes. It's brought all fighting to a practical halt, so my dad thought it would be a good opportunity to get out of the city. It was going pretty well too, until I ran into that Fell."

Cynder nodded, listening closely to Corin's story. It made sense, the destructive forces that Malefor had unleashed were likely to have far reaching effects, even as far as...where ever they currently were. But at the same time, Corin had mentioned being part of an organized scouting group, and of a nearby city. They may not be near Warfang, but at least there was someplace they could rest and recuperate.

"And these light dragons, the Celtacs, do you think they could help find a way back to Warfang?" Spyro pressed, studying the white dragon's reactions carefully.

"You? Definitely. Her..." Corin glanced over to Cynder, trailing off mid sentence.

"And what's wrong with me, exactly?" Cynder challenged, narrowing her eyes at Corin as he fidgeted nervously.

"Nothing, it's just..." Corin glanced side to side, taking his time with finding the right words. "Shadow dragons have a bit of a reputation, that's all."

"What reputation?" Cynder growled.

"Nothing, I was just saying that shadow dragons are..."

"Are what?"

"Are usually liars and thieves." Corin finished. Cynder glowered at the light dragon. How in the world could he even draw that conclusion? Irritation at the comment flared up within her, and she only managed to just stop herself from acting on it. To even assume something like that just based on her element was...it was...

Perhaps realizing what he said, Corin quickly attempted to mend the situation. "Not that you are, or anything like that, I was just saying that as far as most shadow dragons go..." Noticing the two pointed stares directed his way, Corin's voice slowly died out, leaving them sitting in silence once again. This wasn't going well.

"Right." Cynder said, standing up suddenly. "How far away is this city?"

"It should be about an hour's flight away." Corin replied quickly, looking to avoid any further activation on Cynder's part. From the way that his eyes seemed to dart from her to Spyro, she could tell that he was worried that she might do something. Perhaps he was still afraid...

"Alright, Spyro, let's go." Cynder stood up, not looking at Corin as she stretched her wings.

Looking up, Spyro blinked in surprise. "Cynder? Are you alright? I mean-"

"I'm fine." Cynder shot back. "You, Corin, lead. We're going to this city."

"Alright, if you say so. Just," Corin paused. "You know what, never mind. You did kinda save me from that Fell, so I'll try to put in a good word for you."

"Good. Let's go." Cynder stepped away from the tree, spreading her wings in preparation for flight. Before she could launch off, Cynder felt a tap on her shoulder. Spinning around, she saw Spyro standing there, looking slightly worried.

"Cynder, are you alright?" He asked, his tone and expression dripping with obvious concern for her.

Cynder took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on her emotions. Sure, there were things that she regretted in the past, and things that she would never live down. But at very least, those would be some solid grounds for accusations against her, not basing things purely off of her native element. She was still mad, but at very least it didn't look like Corin had meant to intentionally offend her. It would have helped if he actually apologized though.

"It's nothing Spyro." She finally replied. He didn't appear to be convinced, but he nevertheless backed off, giving her some much needed space.

"Hey, are you two ready to go?" It was Corin, who had also stepped back out of the shade to stand next to the dragons. His eyes seemed to linger on Cynder for a second longer before he looked away, without even the barest hint of saying that he was sorry. After sharing another understanding glance, Spyro and Cynder both nodded, and the light dragon spread his wings in preparation to take off.

Within moments, all three dragons were up in the air, flapping hard as they skimmed over the treetops. Falling in behind Corin, the group pushed further west, leaving the oak tree far behind them as they flew on. Still stung by Corin's almost casual comments, Cynder silently fumed. She hoped the rest of these Celtacs didn't share similar views, but deep down she knew that that was probably too much to hope for. The best they could do at this point was try and figure out a way home as quickly as possible, before they were sucked into some other conflict. But, perhaps that was unavoidable as well.

You couldn't get something for nothing. That was a given rule, with absolutely no negotiations. If they were going to secure help from these light dragons, it stood to reason that they first needed to give something in return. Something like aid against whatever foe Corin and his kin were currently battling against.

So, they might think she was a liar and a thief? "Well," Cynder thought. "Let's see if we can't change that." After all, whatever these demons were, it couldn't be anything worse than what she and Spyro had already faced. Right?

Far behind, almost lost to view, the oak tree where the dragons had talked stood proud and tall amongst the other trees in the forest. And, concealed in the shadows of the upper branches, two flickering red eyes stared out, the owner having listened to every word that had been spoken beneath the tree. If it choose to, the being could have ended the new threat right then and there. But instead, it would bid its time. It would alert the others of its ilk, telling them of the newcomers to the valley. They would grow stronger, massing the darkness around them, waiting for just the right opportunity.

And then, when the moment presented itself, they would strike.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - The Celtacs

Spyro glided through the air, coasting on the stray thermals as he surveyed the area. They were deep into the Western end of the valley now, and the lush woods had leveled out into furrowed pastures. Winding roads snaked their way in between the fields, although no travelers could be found as far as the eye could see. Every once in a while, there was a small clearing where the ground was black and charred, where not even a solitary grass blade dared to grow. Squinting closer at one of the burned patches as they flew over, Spyro could just barely pick the rotting timbers and piled stones among the piles of ash. With a chill, he realized that they were looking at a former homestead, the pastures the occupants had once tended now overgrown with weeds and decay. War had come here.

Shaking his head, Spyro looked back up, refocusing on their destination. Corin had not been lying when he said the city had been just a little over an hour away. And whatever Spyro had expected to find, it certainly wasn't this.

The city was set upon a small hill, commanding an unobstructed view of the valley around it. It wasn't nearly as large as Warfang, but it was still quite impressive. A towering stone wall ringed the city, well over twenty meters in height and spaced with periodic watch towers. Just inside, lean one story homes lay clustered together, mostly constructed out of piled stones and mortar, topped with slanted slate roofs. The homes got bigger as you went closer and closer to the center of the city, even reaching up to two stories in height and being made of more seamless walls and sides. But at the summit of the hill was the crowning achievement. A massive domed structure, resplendent in brilliant white granite, a place of obvious reverence for the dragons below. Spyro gazed upon the structure's magnificence, the thought just occurring to him that it had somehow been constructed without the assistance of earth dragons. He was beginning to see why Corin seemed to take such obvious pride on the light dragon's independence.

After a quick glance to make sure that they were still following him, Corin adjusted his course, angling downwards for landing. Following along the road just below, Corin aimed for the wooden gate embedded in the side of the wall, an entrance into the city beyond.

Flaring his wings, the white dragon gracefully pulled into a perfect landing, arriving right at the door steps to the city. Turning around, he held a paw out, an expectant grin on his face as he watched Spyro and Cynder set down behind him. "And here we are. Clarity, the largest and grandest city this side of the world. What do you think?"

"Not bad." Cynder nodded, carefully monitoring the parapets above for any movement. "But why did we land outside the wall exactly?"

Corin shrugged. "Hey, fly over if you want. But don't expect anything except solar beams shot at you if you do, you're already on shaky ground as it is." Cynder narrowed her eyes, obviously wondering if Corin had just made another slight against her element.

"Well, do we just knock then?" Spyro asked, hoping that they could finally start to get some definite answers as to where they were. There had to be someone inside the city that could help them, and the better part of the day had already passed. The sooner they could find a way back to Warfang, the better. And admittedly, it it would be nice to see if they could get a proper meal as well.

"Sure, although I expect someone will be along shortly." Corin replied, suddenly looking doubtful. "I mean, somebody had to see our approach, right?"

Spyro heard a soft gasp from Cynder, and he quickly turned to see what was the matter. Cynder was staring out along the wall, a short distance away from the gate, where what looked like indiscriminate piles of tree trunks and other refuse were stacked in some sort of landfill. But as Spyro watched, he saw movement within the piles, a horned form of a dragon stepping out from within. He too had pure white scales, although they were so dirt coated that he looked almost gray. He was obviously an adult, his large girth making him easily discernible among the trash heaps. After a few seconds, another dragon joined him, this time a female with actual gray scales that stopped to gaze at them from a far. And then another dragon appeared. And then another.

After about a dozen or so of these silent specters had materialized, emerging from what Spyro now realized were makeshift shelters, he finally found his voice, whispering urgently to Corin, who was still preoccupied with the lack of movement at the gate.

"Hey, Corin, who are they?" Spyro asked, even as the small crowd watched them with dull, blank stares. There was a startling amount of diversity among the group, with equal measures of young and old, male and female, and even a slight variation of scales that ranged from stark white to a light gray. As a matter of fact, there was only one thing every single one of the dragons had in common. Some sort of black emblem, emboldened upon each of their chests.

"Hm?" Corin turned, apparently noticing the silent watchers for the first time. Letting out a tired sigh, he looked back towards the gate. "Oh, them. Don't pay them any heed, they're not important."

"Not important?" Cynder echoed. "But they look famished! Don't they have someplace else to stay, within the walls of the city?" Cynder gave a pleading look at Corin, imploring him to explain further.

The light dragon opened his mouth, but before he could answer, a loud boom reverberated out, the heavy wooden gate jerking into motion. Broken from their trance, the silent crowd dispersed, vanishing back within their shanty town, disappearing almost as quickly as they had come. Tearing his gaze away, Spyro watched the gate slowly rise into the air, the mechanisms within clanking and rattling all the way. No sooner had the gate reached the top then a number of dragons came streaming out, each and every one of them covered in white scales. Within moments, the trio was surrounded, the light dragons around them gazing down with obvious suspicion and mistrust. Spyro gulped nervously, knowing that it was too late to think about fleeing. All he could do was stick around and hope for the best.

A single adult dragon pushed his way to the front, a red cloth bearing an insignia of two interlocking diamonds tied prominently on his right foreleg. Scrutinizing the group, he nodded towards Corin. "Evanstar, get back into the city. I dare say your father will want a word with you after today's debacle."

Corin breathed a sigh of obvious relief before slipping out of the ring of guards, shooting one last glance back at the other two dragons before hurrying away, disappearing within the cluster of curious light dragons that had gathered around the gate. Spyro exchanged a nervous glance with Cynder, suddenly worried about what they had gotten themselves into. Corin was supposed to put in a good word for them, not be dismissed right away. Then again, how influential would his word have been in the first place?

The captain shifted his gaze to Spyro and Cynder, studying them both as the other guards shuffled nervously. "You, you are a purple dragon, correct?" The captain barked, startling Spyro with his abruptness. Spyro had only time for a quick nod before the captain shifted over towards Cynder. "And you, a shadow dragon I presume?"

"Yes, but-"

"Silence!" The captain commanded, the rest of the guards all jumping to attention. Keeping his gaze on Cynder, the captain resumed speaking, his tone powerful and filled with authority. "I hereby place both of you under custody of the Clarity city guard. Do not resist or make any attempt to flee, or else it will be taken as a sign of aggression."

Spyro blinked, unsure of what had just happened. They were being put in custody? On what charges? But before Spyro could so much as open his mouth to object, the captain headed him off. "You," he motioned to one of the guards, the light dragon in question quickly raising a paw in a hasty salute. "Go alert the Overseer. I dare say he will want to call a meeting over these new arrivals." The dragon nodded, unfurling his wings and launching off into the air, clearing the city wall and vanishing within.

"You will now march." The captain announced, his gaze drifting back toward Cynder as he spoke. "I suggest that you not try any funny business, shadow dragon, unless you want your situation to get any worse." Cynder scowled back at the captain, but Spyro was relieved to see that she had enough sense to hold her tongue. They couldn't afford to do anything the Celtacs might take as resistance. In this situation, it would be best to go along quietly and hope that this Overseer would offer them a fair trial.

Turning back around, the captain strode back toward the city, Spyro and Cynder following in his wake. The guards took up positions on either side of them, not sparing a single glance toward either dragon as they headed back toward the gate. Spyro straightened his back, doing his best not to be intimidated by the myriad of faces peering out at them from the city. This was certainly not a time to show weakness.

As the gate shuddered closed behind them, the procession squeezed together as they worked their way through the narrow city streets. The close quarters were not helped by the fact that nearly every single dragon in the city had turned out to see what all the fuss was about. Shielded by the guards, Spyro watched as light dragons of all ages pushed and jostled for a chance to get a peek at him and Cynder. A storm of frenetic whispers followed them as they pushed upward, most of them noting the bizarre coloring of their scales. It didn't come as a great surprise, Spyro reasoned. After all, the dragons within the city all had white scales, with only a few variation of secondary colors ranging from gold like Corin to a dark, rich brown. If they were as isolated as Corin claimed they were, then this was likely the first time these dragons had ever seen colors so exotic.

Except... There was one brief flash of something other than white from within the crowd. It was irregular, and Spyro only caught intermittent flashes of the light gray scales from in between the sea of white. Finally, with a flourish of motion, the gray dragon leaped upon a stack of produce crates, and Spyro finally had a clear glimpse of him. To his surprise, the dragon appeared young, almost their own age if Spyro were to guess. He did indeed have gray scales covering most of his slim frame, which was offset by his much more mild pale blue chest and wings. Two horns stretched above his head, interrupted in the middle by a short deviation to either side before curving back to the vertical. His two bright green eyes bored into Spyro, his mouth hanging open as he gazed upon the purple dragon. Breaking eye contact, Spyro noted that the dragon's chest was adorned with the very same symbol as the dragons outside, a set of crisscrossed lines contained within black circle.

The dragon didn't escape anyone else's notice either. Almost immediately, one of the guards escorting Spyro and Cynder broke off, growling audibly at the other young dragon. Before the gray dragon could make any move to get away, the guard lashed out, grabbing one of the dragon's horns and yanking him down from the stack of crates. The dragon struck the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs as he scrambled about, trying to get traction on the cobblestone street.

"Wait! Stop, I just-" Ignoring the dragon's protests, the guard began to drag him off, a white paw still tightly gripped around the dragon's horn. The crowd parted to let them pass, many of the bystanders leveling a disgusted look at the spectacle. The dragon managed to make eye contact with Spyro one last time before he was lost to the crowd, still helplessly dragged along by the guard.

Spyro stopped, stuck by the seemingly casual brutality shown to the young dragon. He hadn't been doing anything wrong, he had just been trying to get a look at the newcomers like everyone else. Why had that one dragon been singled out by the city guard?

"Keep moving!" The Celtac guard gave Spyro a rough push, causing him to stumble. Cynder quickly shot a paw out, steadying him and preventing Spyro from falling flat on his face. Reluctantly, Spyro started walking once again, suddenly unsure about this whole venture. There was something off about this city, and he wasn't quite sure what it was yet. But it wasn't good, that much he knew.

A wave of coolness washed over him, and Spyro glanced up to see what had caused the shade the procession had just entered. It was the domed building, the purpose of which was yet unknown. The houses around them had drastically improved in quality, and the very street under their feet even seemed to be cleaner and less clogged with civilians. Some of the guard broke away, splitting off down side streets to patrol the surrounding area. At long last, the captain came to a halt, standing before two twin doors that marked the entrance to the dome. The guards on either side of the door quickly saluted and parted, allowing them entry within, cool air flooding out onto the street.

"I guess this is it." Spyro muttered, carefully not to alert the captain. It seemed fair to reason that this was much like the dragon temple in that it housed the leaders of the city, and those that would ultimately decide their fate. Cynder only nodded glumly in response, her eyes still darting in between the various guards on either side of them. Taking a deep breath, Spyro followed the captain inside.

The dome was just as impressive on the inside, with a polished marble floor and arching support columns all constructed down to the most excruciating detail. Rows of stone seats encircled the room, forming two elevated rows that offered a clear view down to the open center. Each chair was decorated with a resplendent crest and occupied by a stern faced dragon, each one of them watching the new arrivals with a measured reserve. Coming to a stop in the dead center of the room, Spyro glanced up, noticing for the first time that a wide skylight was built into the top of the dome, letting in a few scant rays of sunlight into the cavernous hall. It was quite a marvel of architecture, if Spyro did say so himself.

At the opposite end of the door, a single marble podium stood, breaking the rows of chairs that covered most of the rest of the circular chamber. Resting on the podium, a large elder dragon sat, his two steady brown eyes fixated on Spyro. Two tall, sturdy horns arose from his head, giving the dragon a very dignified and reserved air. Like the rest of the seated dragons, he too had snow white scales, his chest and wings colored a rich yellow. Spyro met the dragon's gaze, knowing that this was someone of importance. "Just relax." He thought to himself. "This is just like talking to the guardians, everything is going to work out."

Folding his paws across the podium, the dragon raised his voice, the sound ringing across the room. "Thank you captain, you may return to your post." The captain bowed his head and departed, the two remaining guards following in his wake. The dragon stared down at Spyro and Cynder for several seconds, waiting for the door to swing close behind the captain before continuing.

"As 12th Overseer of this Assembly, I now call this emergency session to order." A hush swept over the chamber as the seated dragons all turned to stare at the podium. Spyro studied the Overseer, trying to judge what was forthcoming. But the ridged stance and curt tone gave him nothing, not one indication of what the Overseer was thinking. Were they here for a fair trial, or for sentencing?

"The subject of course," the Overseer droned on, pointing a single claw down towards the two young dragons. "Stands before you. The issue that we must decide today is who these...unusual dragons are and what are we to do with them."

"Well you see," Several dozen pairs of reproachful eyes immediately settled upon Spyro as the purple dragon stepped forward to speak. "We're just a little lost. And I was hoping that you would..." Spyro trailed off, the Overseer's withering stare causing him second thoughts. Silence filled the chamber, all eyes still upon Spyro as he stood before the podium.

"Do not speak unless spoken to." The Overseer finally replied, with a very pointed glare towards the purple dragon. Backing away, Spyro felt a paw on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Cynder giving him an encouraging smile. Feeling a slight boost of confidence, Spyro faced the podium again, this time with Cynder beside him.

"Now, please enlighten us as to your names." The Overseer gestured, nodding his head slightly as permission to speak.

"I'm Cynder and this is Spyro." Cynder spoke, her voice ringing clear throughout the chamber before Spyro had a chance to speak. "And before you ask, that's it. No family names or titles." Cynder finished, taking a determined stand as a storm of whispering filled the chamber. It was clear that most of the dragons present hadn't expected her to speak up, and Cynder's actions had forced them to reevaluate the situation. Spyro could only hope that Corin's opinions on shadow dragons weren't widely held throughout the Assembly.

The Overseer nodded, his emotions still concealed behind a stone faced mask. "Noted. Now, as to why you are here..."

The doors at the other end of the hall flew open, banging on their hinges with a sudden crash. The Assembly collectively shifted seats, as a new dragon entered the room. He was large, a well trained physique obvious to even the casual observer. A rusty brown shade of scales colors his midriff and wings, the rest of his body covering in white scales, which came as no surprise to Spyro. A mace-like tail blade dragged along the floor behind him, and Spyro had no doubt that the dragon could deal quite a bit of damage with it if he cared to. A paper-line scar ran across the dragon's left cheek, and two curved horns rose off of his skull, the pointed tips practically gleaming in the scarce sunlight behind him. Finally, a set of straps ran across his chest, supporting a metal plate emblazoned with a set of three interlocking diamonds within a blood red circle, a design extremely reminiscent of the captain's arm band.

The new dragon's voice boomed out into the Assembly, the deep tones instantly drawing everybody's attention. "Overseer, how could you call such a vital meeting to order without my presence? Am I not the one charged with the very protection of this city? Am I not the one who should have a say in what will become of these..." The dragon paused, taking a moment to formally study Spyro and Cynder before finishing. "Interlopers."

"The Assembly recognizes High General Taurus." The Overseer smiled, although even Spyro could tell the action was forced. "I was under the impression that you were conducting a survey in the southern territories and would not be back for some time, General."

"The surveys took quicker than expected." Taurus replied, working his way around the edge of the chamber, his azure eyes still latched onto the two young dragons. Ruffling his wings impatiently, the General stood in a clear space beside the podium, his gaze finally switching to level a thinly veiled look of dislike toward the Overseer.

Gritting his teeth, the Overseer returned to Spyro and Cynder, who had been watching the exchange with intent interest. They could use any information they could when it came to the Celtacs political system, and this apparent rivalry might prove to be of some importance.

"Now that we are all accounted for," the Overseer resumed, plowing on as if the General standing to his right was of no more significance than a potted plant. "Perhaps we could get to the bottom of this issue. These two young dragons showed up at the gate of our great city, in the company of Corin Evanstar, who had been separated from his scouting group earlier this morning. As we do not know anything more, I'm sure the Assembly will agree that we ought to hear what they have to say before coming to any decisions."

A murmur of assent arose from the assembled dragons following the Overseer's speech. Taurus sniffed, preferring instead to glare at the Overseer out of the corner of his eyes. Once again ignoring the General, the Overseer leaned forward on his podium. "You may now speak freely, Spyro and Cynder."

Spyro took a deep breath, carefully organizing his thoughts. "I can understand if you don't want us in your city for long, and I confess that there is another place that we would very dearly like to return to with all due haste. We hail from the dragon city of Warfang, and we only wish for knowledge on how we can travel back there."

The Overseer nodded, considering their words. "It has been a long time since we have heard from that part of the world. I admit, I am surprised that a city such as Warfang still stands. But," the Overseer paused, taking the opportunity to make eye contact with the rest of the Assembly before continuing. "If all that you desire is information on how you might find your way back, I believe this Assembly would have no trouble in granting your request."

Cynder breathed out a sigh of relief, and Spyro felt a knot of anxiety dissipate almost instantly. But no sooner had the Overseer finished speaking than another voice arose to challenge him. "Do you seriously believe that is all they desire?" Taurus sneered, his tone dripping with disbelief. "I would like to hear exactly how these two dragons managed to come all the way from Warfang to Clarity, and yet not know how to get back."

Taurus leaned back, allowing himself a self satisfied smirk as the Assembly dissolved into debate. Watching the crowd, Spyro was disheartened to see that many of them seemed to agree with Taurus, and renewed looks of suspicion were cast down toward the two young dragons. With a single sentence, the General had flipped the Assembly back into opposition of the young dragons.

"It's a rather long story." Cynder began, again taking the initiative. The Assembly quieted, the dragons all waiting for the Overseer's decision.

The white dragon held out a paw, motioning for Cynder to proceed. "Then the Assembly will hear it, and see if it has any merit."

"Have the purple dragon tell it." Taurus interjected, settling down to watch the two dragons with bright eyes, as a predator would eye a helpless prey. "Then at least there may be some isolated grains of truth to be found."

Spyro saw Cynder grit her teeth, outraged at the blatant snub. This was starting to get out of hand, the Assembly clearly had no interest in seeing what Cynder had to say. Even if the Celtacs were their only hope of assistance, Spyro knew he had to say something. "We'll tell it together." He declared, facing down the Celtac General unflinchingly. Taurus was obviously accustomed to intimidation tactics, and they couldn't let him get under their scales.

Taurus only glared, while the Overseer and the rest of the Assembly all motioned for Spyro to continue. Nodding at Cynder, Spyro opened his mouth, and began to recount their adventures.

**********••••••••••

"A complete and utter fairy tale." Taurus snorted, staring down at the two dragons with blatant contempt. "Just listen to them! A destroyer of worlds? An impossibly large army of demented creatures? They insult our very intelligence with such outlandish stories."

The Overseer on the other hand, seemed to be considering the two dragon's account seriously. "I would not be so quick to dismiss them Taurus. After all, it would explain the earth-shattering quakes we have experienced the past few days."

"If you want an explanation for the quakes, just take any Celtac child off the streets and ask them." Taurus shot back. "I dare say you will receive a much more believable answer, Overseer."

"Everything that they have said has conformed to the ancient legends." The Overseer replied, his voice still calm and level. Spyro felt a small twinge of relief. At very least, they had one dragon on their side.

"You cannot be serious Overseer." Taurus protested. "Just listen to them for more than a few seconds. Why, this shadow dragoness even claims that she can manipulate wind, fear and poison as well! Such a thing is unheard of, even in the legends of old. I think," Taurus half turned, his eyes resting down on Cynder. "That she is simply lying, as is her nature."

Spyro cast a worried glance at Cynder, unsure of how she would react. All throughout their retelling, Taurus had sat there, sneaking in comments of disbelief whenever Cynder spoke. It was clear that the General's mind was already made up, and there would be little that they could do to change it.

However, Cynder didn't seemed bothered in the least. Stepping forward, she unfurled her wings in one smooth motion, and with a powerful flap, she shot up from the floor. Almost instantly, a maelstrom of wind rushed through the chamber, sending the seated dragons cowering in alarm. Spyro felt the freezing wind against his back, the impact enough to force him to steady himself against the polished marble floor. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the two guards at the door start forward, both of them opening their mouths in preparation to shoot beams of scorching light into Cynder's unprotected back. But before the guards could line up a shot, Cynder folded her wings and dropped back to the floor, the wind storm slowly subsiding in her wake. Noticing Spyro's worried gaze, she only replied with a smug wink.

The Overseer was the first to recover from the unprecedented display. Turning to face Taurus, a sly grin briefly twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Well Taurus, it would appear that they are telling the truth after all."

The Celtac General scowled. "Only part of the truth Overseer, nothing more." He finally answered, his eyes never leaving Cynder. "It does not change the fact that these two dragons represent a clear and present danger to this city. If anything, it only makes them that much more deadly."

The Overseer raised a quizzical eyebrow. "A threat to the city? I'm afraid that I don't quite follow your logic there Taurus. As a matter of fact, they have conducted themselves quite courteously and politely, despite having been lead here as prisoners of your city guard."

"They were found at the eastern end of the valley, near where those red-eyed demons spawn from." It was Taurus' turn to survey the Assembly, trying to rally his allies. "They could be spies or saboteurs, recruited to open the door for an outright invasion."

"Then that would be all the more reason to grant their request and see them gone from our borders, no?" The Overseer reasoned, again drawing nods of agreement from most of the Assembly. It was becoming clear who had the upper hand, and the Overseer was not afraid to push his advantage.

"With all due respect," Taurus seethed, his tone making it perfectly clear that no respect was felt or conveyed. "I don't feel that you are entirely unbiased on this matter, Overseer Evanstar."

Evanstar? Spyro exchanged a surprised glance with Cynder, confirming what they had just heard. That was Corin's father?

The Overseer leaned back, taking a moment to monitor the general for a span of several seconds. "I should be asking you the same question, General Taurus. These two have thus far done nothing against the Celtacs, indeed they have done us a favor by returning one of our lost sons to us. The fact that it is my own kin matters little, as I'm sure the Assembly will agree. I am left to wonder then, where your claims against these dragons stem from."

All around them, the rest of the Assembly shifted restlessly, many impatient glance directed up towards the skylight. They had been cooped up inside of the hall for a couple of hours now, and it appeared as if most of the dragons present were tiring of the extended debate between the General and Overseer. A barely audible rumble reached Spyro's ears, a reminder that he had not eaten all day. The sooner a decision was reached, the better.

The two dragons stared each other down, the tension so thick that it could be cut with Cynder's tail blade. Spyro waited patiently down on the floor, knowing the winner of this confrontation would be the decider of their fate. The Overseer seemed to be enjoying the upper hand, and they might just get the help that they needed to get back to Warfang. But Spyro could only hope.

"Overseer, one moment." The Overseer looked up, even as all attention shifted to the dragon that had just rose from his seat. "While I understand the importance of such an emergency meeting, this issue does not seem to require immediate attention. It is late, and I was wondering if the Assembly would agree to a dismissal. We all have families to get back to." Nods and murmurs of assent echoed around the chamber as the dragon slowly sank back down into his seat, patiently awaiting the Overseer's verdict.

Glancing up toward the skylight, Spyro was surprised to see the first stars appearing against the dusk sky, the sun's last rays illuminating the clouds with brilliant splashed of orange and pink. It was getting late, but couldn't they reach a final decision now? The Overseer sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back on the podium. "Very well. We will resume this issue on the marrow. This Assembly is hereby dismissed."

"Wait!" Cynder shouted, even as the dragons all collectively rose from their seats. "What about us? Are we free to go, or-"

"You will be detained until the Assembly has voted on whether or not you are who you claim to be, and that you are not a threat to us." The Overseer replied. Smiling deviously, Taurus stormed past them, obviously content with the turn of events. His mace of a tail blade dragging lazily behind him, the General followed the rest of the Assembly from the room, even as the two guards stepped forward to take up places on either side of the young dragons. As soon as Taurus disappeared from sight, the Overseer relaxed, his shoulders loosening as he stepped down from the podium.

Walking up toward the young dragons, the Overseer allowed a small grin. "But, if you don't attempt to escape or otherwise attack us, I will personally see to it that you are treated fairly. We will resolve this issue shortly, and I do believe you will get the aid you require." Nodding, the dragon stepped around, striding over to the two doors at the end of the hall.

Pausing on the threshold, he turned back to look at the young dragons one last time. "As Overseer, my only job is to lead the Assembly. I introduce and moderate various issues, and as such am expected to remain impartial." The Overseer took a steady breath, looking out the doors to the sprawling city beyond. "But as a father, I am grateful to you both for making sure my son returned home safe. You have my thanks."

And with that, the Overseer exited through the doors, leaving only the young dragons and their guards behind in the empty Assembly hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Night Meetings

Corin flopped back onto the nest padded cushions, letting out a contented sigh as he stared at the ceiling of his room. Without a doubt, this had to have been one of the most bizarre days of his life. He had gone from actually getting to take part in a real scouting mission, to being cornered by a Fell, to the very surreal encounter with Spyro and Cynder. He still expected to wake up any second, and have this whole day be just a distant dream. But that would probably be too much to ask for, wouldn't it?

Flipping over onto his stomach, Corin mentally berated himself. The one chance he got to actually leave the city, and he had nearly been killed by a Fell. A simple-minded, mangy Fell. Sure, if it had actually been a Defiler, that might be excusable. But a Fell? It had been well over a decade since the last time Corin had heard of a dragon actually being killed by one of the creatures, considering that all you had to do to escape was open your wings and rain concentrated solar beams downward. Instead, what had happened was downright shameful, even if it had lead him to find the other two dragons.

If there was one saving grace, it was that he had been the one to find those two and bring them to the city. Of course, he had known the likely ramification of bringing a shadow dragon and an outsider here, but what else was he suppose to do? At very least, Corin hoped that they weren't being treated too badly during their stay. They didn't seem evil or dishonest in the slightest. Even Cynder seemed to be alright, for a shadow dragon that is.

Yawning, Corin stretched out on his bed, the day's events beginning to weigh down on him. All around him, various shelves and tables cluttered with carefully inscribed scrolls or curious knickknacks, lit only by the pale light of the newly risen moon shining through his window. Gifts, from friends and family, each one carrying some use or knowledge. Most of the scrolls either dealt in Celtac history or the mastery of the light element, the latter of which Corin had read through often. It had paid off too, as not many other dragons his age could pull off a forcefield quite just yet.

Corin knew that it would probably be productive to look over some of the scrolls again, understand the mistakes he had made and try to correct them, but he found himself just too tired to do so. Maybe he would simply go to sleep nice and early tonight, he certainly knew that he could use the extra rest.

But a thought nagged at him, even as he let his eyes drift closed. There was something that he had been forgetting, something else that he was suppose to do...

The meeting! That was it! Shooting bolt upright, Corin shook himself, trying to rid the spell of drowsiness that plagued him. That was tonight, how could he have forgotten? Stepping around the cushions, Corin tiptoed over to the window, lifting the latch and swinging it open to gaze down upon the vacant garden below. He was probably already late as it was, he couldn't really afford to waste anymore time here. But just as Corin put a foot on the window ledge, a sharp rapping rang out from his door. "Corin? May I come in?"

"Uhh, sure Dad." Corin quickly replied, pulling the window back into place as quietly as he could. As soon as the latch clicked back into place, Corin leaped toward the cushions, landing with a soft poof even as the door creaked open. Corin's father stepped in, nodding at the sight of his son in resting languidly on the bed. Closing the door behind him, the elder dragon carefully made his way over to the window.

Corin said nothing, knowing that his father would prefer to speak first. After taking a pause to look out into the garden, the elder dragon cleared his throat. "Are you alright Corin? I understand that it had been quite the busy day for you."

"I'm fine Dad." Corin said, yawning again as he curled up on the cushions. "I managed to find some red gems, so I'm back up to full health."

Corin's father raised a single eyebrow. "Really? Could you also tell me how exactly you came across our two new arrivals as well?"

Corin gulped. Did he dare share how he had nearly became the meal of a common Fell, only to be saved by a shadow dragoness? "Um, well I had wandered off, and there was this big commotion and I went to check it out." Corin's father watched impassively, a signal to go on. Plowing forward, Corin continued. "And there was this pack of Fell that had managed to corner both of them at the base of this great big oak, and..."

Corin trailed off, suddenly aware of his father's stern gaze resting upon him. At length, Corin's father finally spoke. "Bravery is a virtue Corin, but so is honesty. You would do well to remember that."

Corin hung his head, cheeks glowing red at the accusations. He should have known better, his father had already heard Spyro and Cynder's accounts, and he had never been that good at lying in the first place. "I'm sorry Dad, it's just that I wasn't paying attention and that Fell got the jump on me. It won't happen again."

The elder dragon nodded. "I doubt it will. It appears that you were fortunate that Cynder showed up when she did. And remember Corin, you should be thankful that it was a Fell that you encountered today. A Defiler would have gone directly for your throat."

Corin raised a paw to his throat, rubbing it absentmindedly as he thought of the dark creatures. It was lucky, he now realized, as even experienced soldiers had difficulty taking down a single Defiler, and at close quarters their razor sharp teeth and claws were practically a death sentence. Maybe the Fell was the lesser of the two evils.

Leaving his post at the window sill, Corin's father reached down to lightly pat his son on the head. "Relax Corin, I'm not angry. I just hope you take away lessons from this and use them to better yourself. I wouldn't count on the appearance of a shadow dragoness to save you a second time."

Corin felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, a much more casual atmosphere falling over the room. Deciding to change the subject, Corin looked back up to his father. "Are they still here? Spyro and Cynder I mean."

The elder dragon sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. It should have been an easy request to grant, but Taurus managed to stall enough to put the vote off until tomorrow. So for the time being, both dragons are being housed in one of the prison cells. I wish I could do more, but Taurus is convinced that they pose some sort of threat. But, assuming all goes well, they ought to be on their way home by midday tomorrow."

Corin nodded. The news that he wouldn't see either dragon again wasn't surprising to him. He didn't really feel that he had to in the first place anyways. It was probably for the best though, since neither dragon was likely to be welcomed into the city with open arms. They were still outsiders after all, and there would always be those that would suspect them of being in league with the Defilers. Taurus was a shinning example of such thinking.

"Actually, that's the other thing I wished to talk to you about." Looking up, Corin saw his father watching him with a sincere expression. "In your opinion, do you think that either of these newcomers mean us any harm?"

Corin blinked, surprised at the unexpected question. "Why do you want my opinion Dad? I mean, I'm not an Assembly member or anything like that."

"No." Corin's father admitted. "But you have spent the most time in their company out of anyone in the city. And as I know from experience, personalities tend to change when they're put on trial in front of a full Assembly."

Turning away, Corin thought long and hard on the answer. Indeed, both Spyro and Cynder didn't seem to harbor any sort of ill will toward much of anyone. Heck, he had even attacked them by mistake, and they had apparently forgiven him for it. And they had gone out of their way to find red gems, which had gotten increasingly scarce as the war against the Defilers raged on. And if all they really wanted was a way home, who was Corin to condemn them for it?

"I don't think either of them are going to try anything, or attack us." Corin finally answered. "I think they just want to go home."

Corin's father nodded. "That is much the same as to what I concluded from today's session. I'm sure the Assembly will approve their request." Turning, the elder dragon strode to the door, pulling it open to let the flickering candle light of the hallway spill into the room. Looking at Corin one last time, the dragon gave a small smile. "Rest well Corin, you've done a lot today. I'm sure your mother will wake you early in the morning so that you can see our two guests off."

Corin lowered his head back down to his pillow as the door gently shut behind his father. Listening intently, Corin waited until the footsteps had receded into nothingness before springing back to his feet. Rushing over to the window, Corin hurridly pushed it open and leaped out into the cool night air, spreading his wings to glide down to the garden. Landing softly and careful to remain out of sight of the ground floor windows, Corin worked his way around the side of the house, carefully poking his head out into the street to make sure the coast was clear.

Due to the Defiler threat, a mandatory curfew was in affect past sundown, with regular guard patrols along the city streets to watch for any unusual activity. Having been well accustomed to navigating around the guard's routes, Corin was reasonably sure he would make it to the meeting place without incident. If not, he was going to have quite a lengthy discussion with his Dad about following the rules. Again.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Corin stepped out into the street, leaving his house behind him as he struck off into the city. With his eyes darting between every single side street and alleyway, he turned the corner, leaving the inner district behind, the houses all around him taking a noticeable drop in both height and quality. Still wary of running into a patrol, Corin slowed up a bit, lightly jogging past an empty alleyway on his right as he scanned ahead for any signs of motion. But the streets were completely abandoned, without a single white scales shining out against the black night. He really was alone.

"Well, if it isn't the great Corin Evanstar, chief among all hunters." Corin leaped about a foot in the air and spun around, turning back towards the alley he had been sure was empty just a second ago. Another young dragon had appeared, casually leaning against the wall as he smirked at Corin. His white scales stood out against the otherwise dark alley, highlighting his light brown chest and curved horns that reached up from the top of his skull. His sharp, angular face twitched into a toothy smile as his cold blue eyes bored into Corin, watching the other dragon with a vindictive glee. "Going off to hunt more Fell, I presume?"

"Valdus." Corin growled, glaring at the young dragon as his tail swayed back and forth behind him. "I guess you got tired of sitting around doing nothing while I actually helped the city?"

"Oh, right, you seriously believe that bringing those two outsiders here actually was beneficial. How civic minded of you." Valdus taunted, pushing off the wall to stand up right, facing Corin. "It almost makes me forget that you're out here breaking curfew. I really should do my duty as a Celtac citizen and report you. It would be the right thing to do, for the good of the city, you understand."

Corin gave a short laugh. "Then wouldn't you have to explain why you were breaking curfew as well? And you're forgetting, my father is the only one who has a say in misdemeanor cases like breaking curfew, and I know for a fact that I would end up getting off a lot easier that you would."

Valdus snorted. "Just because you're the son of the Overseer doesn't mean that you own this city, Evanstar. I believe that when it's a military necessity, curfew laws fall under the city guard, not the Assembly." A triumphant smile slowly spread across Valdus' face. "Under my father's jurisdiction, not yours."

Corin gritted his teeth, trying to think of a response. Being the son of the High General himself, there was little doubt that Valdus was correct in his claim. After all, the curfew was only established after the Defilers had actually attempted a direct attack on the city five years ago, and would almost certainly be under military jurisdiction. But even still, Corin doubted that Valdus would get off scot-free, if only because his transgression might have the effect of making Taurus look bad. Favoritism could only get you so far.

Stepping back into the alleyway, Valdus shot Corin one last parting glance. "You're lucky that I have other, more important matters to attend to tonight, Evanstar. You'd best run along too, I wouldn't want to keep you from your hunt." The dragon disappeared, ducking back into the alley and out of sight before Corin could so much as open his mouth to defend himself. Fuming, Corin glanced side to side, making sure that no guard patrols had crept up him while he had been arguing.

Valdus Taurus, the son of General Taurus and Corin's unofficial rival. The Evanstars and the Taurus' held a long standing rivalry, as both were among the most influential members of the Assembly. Their fathers clearly despised each other, and the sons were no exception. Valdus had a sharp silver tongue, and delighted in slipping in snide insults at Corin at every opportunity. It probably figured that Valdus had heard about the Fell from his father, who had likely been delighted to point out any shortcomings of the Overseer. And if Valdus had such information, Corin knew that by this time tomorrow, everyone would have heard about it. So much for keeping this incident under wraps.

Corin hesitated, gazing down the alleyway that Valdus had turned down. Valdus was never one to stick his neck out like this, breaking curfew, unless there was something to be gained from it. What "important matters" was he up to anyways? Corin considered tailing the dragon, if he hurried he might just catch up to him. He might even find out something useful, some bit of gossip to counteract the Fell story that Valdus was sure to spread around. It was a tempting offer.

Sighing, Corin turned away from the alleyway, continuing instead down the narrow street before him. He had a meeting to keep, and he didn't even want to think of what would happen if he neglected to show up at all. Valdus would just have to wait, there might be another night where Corin could figure out what the dragon was up to. But until then, Corin would just have to deal with the rumors as they came, and make sure they didn't actually effect the opinions of those that mattered to him. All the more reason why he had better hurry along to the rendezvous. Shooting the alley one last wistful glance, Corin took off, leaving the silent street far behind as he pressed deeper into the city.

**********••••••••••

Cynder paced back and forth, from one wall to the next, her talons clicking against the dusty stone floor. Beside her, Spyro lay stretched out on a narrow wooden bench suspended from one wall, his violet eyes lazily watching her as she paced back and forth. They were stuck inside one of prison cells that occupied one of the upper levels of the Assembly hall, with only a paltry meal slid through a slot beneath the iron wrought door to sate their hunger. They had been locked up in here for the past few hours, and it was painstakingly clear that they weren't going to be let out again any time soon. And Cynder hated every second of it.

"Cynder, please, just try to get some rest." Spyro pleaded, pushing himself up into a seated position. "You can have the bench, I'm more than alright with sleeping on the floor."

Cynder turned around, gazing over through barred window in the opposite wall, the only sources of light the pale stars hanging above the dark city. Turning back away to complete another circuit, Cynder shook her head. "Thank you Spyro, but I'm fine. I just wish that we didn't need to put up with being prisoners here. The sooner we can be get headed back to Warfang, the better."

Spyro sighed, folding his legs back beneath him, the bench creaking under his weight. Silence settled back over the room, both dragons pondering over their situation. Despite the Overseer's promise to support them in the Assembly, Cynder couldn't exactly say that she was much impressed with the results thus far. Stuck in a jail cell and being cast constant suspicious glances from all the guards, Cynder knew she might be able to excuse their current situation if it was some sort of repentance for her own past. But it appeared as if these light dragons didn't even trust her enough to even believe the story she and Spyro told. Instead, they seemed to be hung up on the simple fact that they were both outsiders, and as such treated with extreme caution. They hadn't even been here half a day, and already they appeared to have made a number of enemies.

Cynder made her rounds back by the window, not intending to stop pacing any time soon. She knew that Spyro was right, and that she needed her rest, but to her, this was no safe place to lay her head down. She had to keep aware of the slightest detail of their situation, from the change of the guard, to the possible reappearance of General Taurus, to the incessant tapping coming from the bars of the window...

Spyro jerked his head up, staring at the window with perplexed concern even as Cynder whipped around to face the far wall. There was something there, a dark shadow looming up from the base of the window, a set of claws playing against the metal bars as two bright green eyes peered into the room. "Hello? Is this the right cell? Anyone in there?"

Spyro lightly sprang off the bench, squinting through the shadows to make out the dark shape. "Who's there? Identify yourself." He challenged, staring at the indiscriminate form as Cynder stood next to him.

The dark shape sighed, the claws tightening around the bars as he hoisted himself up onto the narrow ledge that ran about a meter below the window. "Oh good, I was beginning to worry they put you in one of the interior cells. I've been climbing around this building for the past half hour looking for you two. Don't worry, I'm a friend." The figure paused, his eyes taking a moment to give both of the dragons a proper look over. "And might I say, both of you are quite a sight for sore eyes."

Drawing from her elemental reserve, Cynder trained her own gaze on their visitor, dispelling some of the darker shadows so that she could get a proper idea who it was. The second she saw the two horns, she knew that it had to be a dragon. Oddly, he didn't seem to be colored white like the other occupants of the city. Instead, he seemed to have a shade of light gray scales covering most of his body, and a pale blue underbelly to match. There was something else on his chest as well, but Cynder couldn't get a good look at it as the dragon was clutching something in his free forepaw, blocking her view.

Perhaps noticing her gaze, the dragon quickly shifted his load, placing the objects on the window ledge. "Oh, before I forget, here." He said, carefully pushing the objects through the bars. They dropped to the floor, rolling across to where the two dragons stood silently. Curious, Cynder reached down and grasped the closest one, her sharp claws instantly breaking through the crusty exterior as she held it aloft.

"I know that the food that they serve in there isn't exactly...high class, so I picked up some bread for the two of you to eat." The figure explained, shifting himself to a more comfortable position with his now free forepaw. "It's stale, but bakers don't really make much of a profit by throwing out fresh bread, if you know what I mean."

After regarding the offered morsel for a few seconds, Cynder gave in to the residual hunger and took a bite out of the roll. A loud crunch echoed around the cell as she chewed, finding that despite the staleness, the bread was still quite good. Nodding to Spyro, she swallowed, knowing now that the rolls were perfectly harmless. Picking another one off of the floor, Spyro stared at the patiently waiting dragon at the window. "I'm sorry, but I still don't know who you are."

"What? Oh, you can call me Laindon." The dragon spoke, squeezing a paw through the bars of the cell to offer to the two other dragons.

Finishing the last of her roll and feeling much better for it, Cynder stepped forward and shook the offered paw, noting with some relief that the other dragon didn't shy away from her like Corin had. Letting go, Cynder cocked her head at the strange dragon. "And is that your first name, your family name, or-"

"First, first and only." Laindon clarified, shaking Spyro's paw before settling back on the narrow ledge. At least there was someone in this city not completely obsessed with names and titles, Cynder reflected. "And you're Spyro, and you're Cynder, right?" Laindon asked, motioning first to the purple dragon and then to the black dragoness.

They both nodded, even as Spyro squinted at Laindon, evidentially trying to get a better picture of the gray dragon. "Wait a minute, I've seen you before. You were the dragon that the guards dragged away when we were being led into the city."

"Oh, you saw that did you?" Laindon shrugged. "It was my own fault, I should have made a better effort to stay out of sight."

Cynder frowned, trying to recall the hazy incident as well. She didn't have nearly as good a view as Spyro had, but she could remember it well enough on her own. "But you weren't doing anything wrong, you were just trying to get a look at us like everybody else."

"Nothing wrong?" Laindon raised a single eyebrow, the motion barely discernible to Cynder in the darkened room. "I don't know if you realize this, but I'm not actually allowed inside the city in the first place. To tell you the truth, that was actually me getting off with a light warning. I usually spend a day or two in these cells whenever I'm unlucky enough to get caught."

"But why?" Cynder pressed. "You don't seem like a criminal to me, so why aren't you allowed here? You're a light dragon too, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm a light dragon." Laindon nodded. "You two are the only non-light dragons on this whole continent I reckon. No, long story short is that I'm Tainted, simple as that."

"Tainted?" Spyro echoed, frowning at the unusual phrase. Laindon nodded, leaning forward a bit to expose his chest. Squinting, Cynder could now very clearly see the brand showing upon Laindon's chest. It was a single diamond, inscribed within a hollow circle, a set of straight black lines protruding out from the middle of each of the four sides to join with the edge of the circle, making a crude X through the center of the diamond. The whole brand itself was jet black, standing out very prominently against the pale blue background. Cynder shuddered, wondering how exactly such a mark had been burned into the young dragon's scales.

"Yeah, Tainted. It's the Celtac's alternative to capital punishment." Laindon paused turning around to gaze out at the city below them. "Lowest of the low, the scum of the earth, the corrupters of society, take your pick. I've been called all of that and worse."

"So you're still a criminal?" Spyro asked, his voice raised slightly, suddenly aware that the dragon hanging on their window ledge may not be all that he seemed.

"Some of us are. Me? I was born into it." Laindon chuckled, his bright green eyes surveying the two dragons.

"You mean because of your scales, don't you." Cynder snorted derisively, remembering all the looks that Corin and the other light dragons all shot at her when they thought she wasn't looking. It wouldn't much surprise her if that was the case, the Celtacs seemed to base impressions on looks first and personalities second.

"Well they certainly haven't done me any favors." Laindon said flatly, letting go of the bars with one of his paws to brush a layer of dust off of his shoulder. "But no, it's for something else that I had no part in, it's not important. And before you ask, I imagine that it's very difficult to have an inclusive population living and reproducing by ourselves without one or two genetic defects showing up. I guess I was just unlucky enough to draw the short stick in regards to both caste status and scale shading."

Noticing both Spyro and Cynder's blank looks, Laindon sighed, rubbing the end of his snout. "Sorry, I keep forgetting that neither of you know what I'm talking about. You see," Laindon paused, taking in a steady breath before launching off into his lecture. "The Celtacs highlight both order and purity above all other things. I believe that was the initial reason why they migrated here in the first place, the rest of dragon society was too disorganized and wouldn't recognize the light dragons for the blessing they apparently are. So, when they got the opportunity to set up their own society, they naturally divided it up into their own specific groups, or castes."

"And I'm guessing the Tainted make up the bottom rung of this ladder?" Spyro summarized, finally feeling relaxed enough to sit down on the cold stone floor. Cynder, on the other hand, remained standing, ready to spring into action should the guards decide to check on them and find them conversing with the Tainted dragon. That would not end well for any of them.

Laindon grimaced. "No, Tainted aren't even a rung. We're not even allowed to work or own money, so I would argue that we aren't a part of this splendid little society. The real bottom would be the Laborers." Laindon leaned out, pointing out past the city walls. "They make up a majority of the population. They're the ones that till the fields in the distant territories, or dig around in the dirt for the metals and other precious resources. I won't go so far as to say that I envy them, but hey, at least they're citizens."

"Next up would be the Artisans." Laindon continued, pointing now inwards toward the one story houses that filled most of the circular city. "Kinda of middle of the road, they're the ones that make most of the stuff that every society depends on. Blacksmiths, glass blowers, and even the baker that provided us with dinner. I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't trade places with one of them in a heartbeat."

"And finally, we have the Warriors, who I'm sure you're already well acquainted with." Laindon finished, now gesturing to the towering Assembly hall. "They have the nicest houses, the best food, and make all the political decisions for us." A brief flicker of dislike passed over Laindon face as he took in the large homes clustered around the base of the Assembly hall.

"So to recap," Spyro tapped a claw pensively on the floor, carefully trying to piece together Laindon's abridged explanation. "Laborers do all the manual work, Artisans make up all the tradesmen, and Warriors make up...the military?"

"Close, but it's actually the Laborers who constitute the city guard and military as a whole." Laindon corrected. "Military officers on the other hand, those are all almost certainly Warrior caste."

"So all the laws, all the orders that the rest of you have to abide by," Cynder frowned, pondering the implications of what Laindon had revealed. "Those all come from a relatively small group of families that sits up here at the summit, far away from any of the actual fighting or hard work?"

"Yep." Laindon said, resting his chin on the window ledge. "That doesn't sit quite right with me either, especially considering that both the positions of the Overseer and General are both drawn from within the Assembly itself. On top of that, it's only made up of the male heads from each household, so not a whole lot of representation for the fairer gender if you think about it."

Cynder groaned. The more she learned about the Celtacs, the less inclined she was to stay here for much longer. She much preferred Warfang, with its much more diverse population and, in her opinion, much better system of government. Sure, the guardians weren't exactly elected, but they at least always took the time to try and listen to the voice of the citizens before making a major decision. At least, she thought that's what they did. Regardless, it certainly was a much more universally popular system than what Laindon was describing.

"So, is it true?" Cynder looked back up to see Laindon staring at them with a wistful longing. "The rumors that you actually come from a city with dragons of all shapes and elements? Where the first question someone asks isn't about your caste status? Where there's no Tainted?"

"Yeah, we do." Spyro replied, looking slightly amused with Laindon's intense sudden interest. "But I don't know how much you would like it there. We weren't there for long, and last time we saw it, the city was nearly leveled due to a siege."

"Considering that I would actually be allowed inside the city means that it's a net gain from my current situation." Laindon shrugged. "And war isn't exactly anything new here either, what with the Defiler treat that we have and all."

Out of the corner of her eye, Cynder saw Spyro glance away. If she could guess at what he was thinking, it was probably that he was feeling guilty that they were just going to leave the Celtacs to deal with the war against these mysterious Defilers on their own. And while Cynder certainly didn't want to let innocents die when she could otherwise intervene, she wasn't sure how much help they could really accomplish by staying here and helping. As already shown by General Taurus' icy reception, they would be lucky simply to get the directions that they needed to get back home, and Cynder didn't see either the General or the Overseer bending over backwards asking for help.

"It must be nice living on the other side of the sea." Laindon sighed, his eyes clouding over as he tried to imagine it. "Again, I know you said that you weren't there for long, but what's Warfang like?"

"Well," Spyro frowned, calling up what little memories he had of the place. "To tell you the truth, it's actually a lot larger than Clarity. I guess having earth dragons allows for much larger buildings to be constructed easily."

"How long did it take to build this Assembly hall anyways?" Cynder cut in, running her paw over the chipped stone walls of the cell.

"I don't know exactly, but probably around forty or so years of backbreaking labor." Laindon replied. "But in Warfang, do you really have dragons of every single element? Or is that just a rumor that somehow got twisted into fact?"

"There's no light dragons, but apart from that, I think so." Spyro nodded. "There's also moles, cheetahs, and a number of other sentient species to boot."

Laindon's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Moles and cheetahs? All of these different elements and species, all living there in harmony?" Laindon gave a half-hearted smile. "That sounds like a utopia to me, you two are lucky that you'll be back there soon. A lot better than listening to endless talks from our fearless leaders on the importance of upholding the old laws."

Cynder watched the gray dragon curiously, noticing the real longing in his voice. It was clear that Laindon was less than happy with his life here, especially since he had drawn the short stick with caste status as he so put it. And yet, Cynder suspected that the only reason he and the rest of the Tainted had stayed was simply because this was the world they were born into, and the only life they have known. Then, she and Spyro had showed up, and as uninformative as their information on the distant dragon city was, it still offered some sort of alternative to Laindon. As a matter a fact, Cynder was waiting for the gray dragon to start pestering them with pleas to let him tag along and second.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Laindon clapped his paws together, swaying precariously on the ledge as he did so. "Tell you what, it's getting late, and I think all of us would benefit from some rest." Laindon said, looking upwards to the moon overhead. "So if you're still here tomorrow night, I'll swing by again, hopefully with some more food."

The dragon turned around, ruffling his wings as he prepared to dive off the building and back to the city below. Giving the dragons one last reassuring nod, Laindon spoke. "Good luck back in the Assembly tomorrow. You're both going to need it." There was a blur of motion and the dragon dropped from the window ledge, using his wings to slow his descent to a gentle glide. Within moments, he was lost to the rows of houses, the city reaching up and swallowing him whole.

"Well, he seemed friendly enough." Spyro commented, letting loose a wide yawn.

Cynder nodded in agreement. "Yeah, at least not all the dragons here seem to be repulsed by talking to a shadow dragon." Finally dropping her guard, she also let out a yawn, the day's events beginning to weigh down on her. Laindon was at very least right about one thing, they could all use some rest, and soon.

Noticing that she seemed ready to settle down, Spyro stepped aside, motioning to the bench as he did so. "Please Cynder, just take the bench. It's a lot more comfortable than the floor, trust me."

"You're the one that pulled the world back together." Cynder pointed out. "If anything, you're the one that deserves a good night's sleep."

Spyro's shoulders drooped, the dragon letting out a sigh as he realized that he wasn't going to change her mind. Slowly, he pulled himself back onto the bench, the wood whining in protest as he laid down. Looking away, Cynder lowered herself down to the floor, the stone freezing against her scales as she curled up in the center of the cell. Squeezing her eyes shut, Cynder focused on slowing her breathing, trying to lull herself into the rhythmic motions of sleep. Next time she would open her eyes, it would be morning.

The bench screeched again, Spyro obviously trying to find a more comfortable position. So Cynder was very surprised when she felt something brush against her exposed back, the cold instantly vanishing as she felt the presence settle down beside her. Raising her head up, Cynder was mildly surprised to see Spyro laying there next to her, the bench now sitting vacant and empty. Noticing how closely they were to each other, Cynder considered mentioning something to the purple dragon. But at this point, she knew that neither of them was going to lay on the bench while the other was confined to floor. And besides, it was nice to feel him pressed up against her, the cool night air now warded off by their mutual body heat.

Setting her head back down, Cynder allowed herself a content smile. Maybe there was hope for him to reciprocate her feelings after all. Still smiling, she allowed her eyes to slide close, and within minutes, she was lost to a much brighter world. Where she and Spyro chased each other through open fields, without any cell walls or light dragons to stand in their way.

**********••••••••••

CRACK

Corin bounced nervously on his feet, playing with a second pebble with one free paw. The cramped yard crowded in on him, a massive oven taking up one full corner and a set of two long work benches lined with tools bordering on either side. A low stone table sat near the corner of the house, several exquisite vases resting upon it, the newly forged glass still cooling in the night air. Inside the dark house, not a single shadow stirred, and Corin began to contemplate throwing a second pebble against the low window gazing out into the yard. He wasn't that late, was he?

Just when he was about to give up and head on home, something in the window stirred, two yellow eyes peering out into the darkened yard. Noticing him, the figure briefly vanished from view, instead playing with the latch and swinging the window wide open. Ducking her head to fit her two horns under the windowsill, the dragoness hopped out, stumbling on the uneven ground as she cast a reproachful glance at Corin. "What took you so long? I was starting to think that you got caught by a patrol."

Corin quickly looked away from the dragoness' stern gaze, setting the unused pebble down on the ground as he did so. "Oh come on Lycinda, you know that I know their routes well enough not to be spotted. My dad just held me up for a few minutes, that's all."

"I know, it's just so stupid why we have to do this." Lycinda fumed, gesturing to the clear night sky above. "Remember when we were kids, and no one said anything when a glass blower's daughter and the Overseer's son hung out and played together?"

"Those were the days." Corin nodded, relaxing somewhat as he recalled the peaceful times. The times before the war. "Now I think my parents worry that I'll end up marrying into the Artisans if I keep hanging out with the likes of you."

"But that's ridiculous!" Lycinda sat down next to Corin, shaking her head in dismay. "It's not like you're out making friends with a Tainted, right? And besides," she said, giving Corin a shy smile. "You weren't planning on marrying into the Artisans anyways, are you?"

"N-no, of course not." Corin stammered, forcing a quick smile to hide his surprise. She hadn't managed to guess, had she?

The dragoness laughed at his obvious discomfort, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder. "Relax, I was just joking. You're so easy to get flustered Corin." Corin let out a small sigh, glad that he wouldn't have to fess up his real reason for being here.

He could still remember the first time he had met Lycinda, all those years ago. He had been adventuring out in the wild expanses of the garden when she had simply fallen through the hedge, right in front of him. After he recovered from his initial shock, they had stuck it off and had become fast friends. The first time he had ever disobeyed his parent's orders had been under her guidance, and together they formed a sort of circle of friends from all across the city. Back then, it didn't really matter which caste they belonged to, only that they were a good sport and fun to hang out with.

They had a few good years of no responsibilities, with only a light slap on the wrist to worry about if they were caught by any of the Warrior caste parents dismayed over their children's company. As a gradual result, most of the other warrior born children eventually stopped coming, with only two exceptions. To this day, Corin could not understand why Lycinda always insisted on inviting Valdus to attend, as both he almost always wound up getting into fights with the dragon if forced to attend the his company for an extended period of time. Not to mention the fact that Valdus had seemed intent to slip in between him and Lycinda at every opportunity. There were a lot of things Corin missed from the simpler days, but Valdus certainly wasn't one of them.

And then, the Defilers had stuck, leaving a bloody trail of death and destruction as they poured out into the valley. The war, in addition to renewed caste responsibilities, had broken up the circle of friends for good, and Corin had been bored out of his skull ever since. He still saw some of the Laborer or Artisan dragons talking together on the city streets, but he never made any effort to join in. That would have been rather unbecoming of his caste to do so. And now, the only way he could still meet up with his first friend was by arranging midnight meetings in one of their respective gardens. Or in Lycinda's case, the glassblowing workshop that her father maintained. It certainly wasn't convenient by any means, but it was a sacrifice Corin was willing to make.

"So, is it true?" Corin blinked, looking back up at the expectant dragoness, her brilliant yellow eyes boring into him. "About the outsiders? I heard that you were the one to bring them to the city."

"Oh yeah, I did, I mean yes, I did do that." Corin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of a good way to sum up the day's events. "And about that, I gather that there's already a number of rumors circulating around about what happened?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Lycinda rolled her eyes. "It was practically all my mother would talk about this afternoon. I mean, a purple dragon? That's practically unheard of."

"Spyro?" Corin nodded. "Tell me about it. He can actually bend the very earth itself Lycinda. I saw with my own eyes."

"Wow." Lycinda leaned back, tapping a single paw against her chin as she thought about it. "It must be so fascinating to be able to do stuff like that. I hope I get to see it myself before he leaves."

"But seriously, tell me what happened." Lycinda watched Corin excitedly as the other light dragon gathered his thoughts. He was so severely tempted to lie, to say that he had stumbled upon the two dragons fighting against a pack of Fell, and that he had swooped in to save the day. He knew Lycinda would believe him, and it would be nice to have a story other than Valdus' floating around to support him. But at the same time, his father's words about honesty came floating back to him. If push came to shove, he would almost certainly be found out, and he could only imagine what Lycinda would think of him then...

"To tell you the truth," Corin sighed. "I sort of got ambushed by a Fell. Then the shadow dragon, Cynder showed up and helped me."

Lycinda shot him a quizzical look. "So you were running away from a Fell when a shadow dragoness pops out of the ground to save your hide?"

"No! I mean, I wasn't running." Well, he was telling most of the truth at least. "So there I was, grappling around in the dirt with the Fell, when suddenly..."

To Corin's credit, he kept the rest of the story strictly to what had actually transpired. He described his initial encounter with Cynder, how he had first mistaken her for a Defiler, their brief fight and even as much of the dialogue that his memory would allow. Lycinda was an excellent audience, her eyes latched on Corin with rapt attention and nodding silently every time he paused for breath. And when he finally concluded with what his father had told him from the Assembly meeting, she reached over and gave him a sturdy pat on the back.

"But you came out of the whole thing in one piece, so all's well that ends well." She smiled. "It's so exciting that something like that happened to you. My parents won't let me leave the city walls, even in broad daylight."

"To be fair, my parents were pretty unsure about letting me go." Corin admitted. "And since I nearly got killed, I don't see them letting me out of their sight any time soon."

"Unless it's to break curfew in order to visit an old friend?"

"Well, I just have to make sure not to get caught." Corin said with a laugh.

Lycinda suddenly looked up, her expression shifting to one of concern as she gauged the time from the moon hanging overhead. "Corin, I hate to cut our meeting short, but you did take a lot longer to show up this time around. And besides, I won't want you get caught when the guards do a flyover."

Corin rolled his eyes. "The guards only do those on nights that they expect some sort of disturbance or attack. We're fine, trust me."

"Yes, but," Lycinda stood up, looking anxious as she stood in front of Corin. "My parents could come out if they notice my bed empty, and that would be just as bad as the guards finding us. Please Corin, let's just play it safe for once."

Corin arced his eyebrows. Safe? Lycinda? This was the dragoness that had once talked him into a camp out in some haunted ruins. Since when did she want to play it safe? "Lycinda, is everything okay?" He asked, noting how agitated the dragoness had become.

"Yes, everything is fine, I just..." Lycinda took a deep breath. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand. But it's not anything bad, so don't worry about it."

"Lycinda," Corin quickly stood as well, watching the dragoness before him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You can trust me. whatever it is, I can help."

Lycinda bit her lip, considering him for the span of several seconds. Finally, she relented. "Oh, alright. I never could resist that puppy dog stare of yours." She frowned, deep in thought even as Corin flushed bright red and quickly averted his eyes. After a minute, Lycinda nodded. "But not right now. Corin, do you think you could meet me tomorrow morning in the marketplace? Near the fabric stalls. Your parents ought to allow you to go that far, no?"

"Yeah, no problem." Corin agreed, thankful that Lycinda hadn't seemed to take too much notice of his embarrassment. "But why not tonight, if I may ask?"

"Let's just say that you aren't the only dragon that made plans tonight." Lycinda replied cryptically. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, promise."

Corin blinked, surprised. Lycinda was meeting with someone else tonight? Who? Corin opened his mouth to voice some of his many questions, but Lycinda quickly shushed him. "Corin, I'm sorry, but I expected you to show up at the usual time. We'll talk longer next time, okay?"

Knowing that he was unlikely to make any headway, Corin clapped his mouth shut and gave a solemn nod. Lycinda seemed to relax a little, although it was clear she was still quite nervous. Giving Corin a brief hug, she nodded to the far corner of the yard, where there was a small gap in between houses that Corin used to slip in and out. "Thanks for understanding Corin. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

The two dragons parted, Corin turning around to make his exit. Looking back at the lovely dragoness, Corin gave one last smile. "Goodnight, Madam Lycinda. I'll see you again tomorrow."

The amused dragoness shook her head. "Always so polite. Goodnight to you too Corin, sorry for being a bit abrupt earlier."

Corin shrugged and turned back around, sucking in his breath as he squeezed through the narrow passage. Popping out the other side, Corin checked to make sure the coast was clear before taking a slow breath to calm himself. After all, even though they were friends, it wasn't everyday that he got a hug from one of the most beautiful dragonesses in the city. Now if only he could summon up the courage to tell her that...

Setting off at a brisk pace, Corin headed for home, creeping through the dark streets of Clarity as he kept a watchful eye out for any patrols. He had a crush on Lycinda for what felt like forever, perhaps even since the first day that they officially became friends. She was perky, energetic, and above all, breathtakingly beautiful, everything that Corin could ever hope for in a mate. Except of course, she wasn't warrior caste. But he would find a way around that, he was sure of it.

Part of the reason why he never alluded to anything of his romantic inclinations was that he still wasn't completely sure her feelings toward him were mutual. Yes, she did regularly break curfew just for the express purpose of seeing him, but that didn't mean he was anything more than a really good friend. She treated everyone this way more or less, even scum like Valdus. But at very least, Corin could count himself fortunate that she still wanted to be friends with him. Romantic or not, that was one of the most important relationships outside of his family to him.

Corin was nearing the warrior district when he saw it. The flickering orange glow of a lantern bending around the far corner of the street. Freezing in place, Corin thought of possible options. He couldn't run back, it was too far to the next street corner, and his scales would surely give him away. The only refuge was a slanting alley on his left, an unplanned gap in between the two houses that the guards were unlikely to check. It was his only hope.

Sprinting forward, Corin slid into the alley, even as the two guards rounded the corner. Scrambling behind some crates, Corin held his breath, praying that they hadn't seen him. The soft thud footsteps drew closer, and the lantern light briefly shone down the alleyway, silhouetting the start boxes that Corin crouched behind. After one moment of panic, the light moved on, the guards continuing on down the street. He had made it.

Feeling his heart pounding away in his chest, Corin carefully pulled himself back up. Looking around the alleyway, he was somewhat surprised to note that it was the very same one that Valdus had been occupying an hour earlier. It appeared deserted now, and Corin was immensely grateful for once that Valdus had actually gone off to where ever he was headed to. Deciding that the guards had moved on by this point, Corin was just about to head out into the streets when he heard something. Something from deeper in the alley.

Corin hesitated, unsure if this warranted an investigation. It could just be another pair of chatting guards, perhaps standing somewhere just out of sight. Or, it could be whatever Valdus had slinked out here to do. Corin would want to remain out of sight either way, but if it was the latter, that might be worthwhile to listen in on. The alleys in between the houses were a prime place to hold a covert meeting, as they were rarely trafficked and in some cases, the city guard didn't even know that the hidden alcoves existed.

Making up his mind, Corin pressed deeper into the alleyway, wrinkling his nose in some disgust as he passed a stack of rotting fruit husks. There was a very good reason why Corin preferred the streets, despite the increased risk of running into a patrol. But he was getting closer, and he could know clearly identify the sound he had heard as voices, conversing in casual tones, probably confident that no one would be there to hear them. If Corin's memory was correct, the alley took a sharp right, where it then opened up a little, enough so that two dragons could comfortably converse. All he had to do was hide around the edge of the corner, and eavesdrop on every word that was said.

"...don't know why you specified we meet here, of all times though." A feminine voice echoed back to the light dragon, carrying a touch of irritation at the other dragon. "You know as well as I do what happens if the guards catch us breaking curfew."

"I know, but this is important." A second voice cut in. From his listening places, Corin frowned as he listened to the other speaker. Definitely a male, but not quite the booming depth that some of the elders possessed. That seemed to indicate someone younger, but Corin couldn't be sure, as the dragon was apparently facing away from him. The only way he could possibly identify the dragon was to sneak a look around the corner, but he doubted he would be able to avoid detection if he did.

"I needed to meet with you, and you're not exactly an easy dragoness to find during the day." The second voice continued, and Corin quickly listened in again.

"I'll take that as a compliment." The dragoness smugly replied. It was silent for several seconds before she spoke again. "This is about those newcomers, isn't it?"

"Yes." The second voice replied. "I'm worried that they might jeopardize our carefully laid plans."

"Do you require a more...permanent solution?" There was a sinister scrap of claws along stone as the dragoness spoke, and Corin felt his blood run cold. This was no romantic meet up. These two were talking about murder.

"I think not." The dragon replied, his voice growing stern. "I believe that if we play this situation out right, it could be of great advantage to us."

The dragoness snorted in disbelief. "Fine. And what do you want me to do in the meantime?"

"The usual." The dragon quickly replied. If Corin didn't know any better, he could of swore that there was a hint of glee in the dragon's voice. "Spread rumors, cause a little chaos."

This was bad, this was really bad. It was a distinct possibility that Corin had just stumbled upon some backhanded deal, an obvious ploy for political power. While this was by no means unusual, the slightest sign of infighting could be their downfall in the war against the Defilers.

But Corin was by no means prepared for what the dragon was about to say next. "At this point, see what you can do to discredit the Overseer and his family. We have to make sure General Taurus has enough backing in the Assembly to-"

Corin took a single step back, intending to slip away before this could get any worse. That was him they were talking about, him and his family. And from the sound of it, this wasn't just your usual bribery and corruption. These dragons seemed to be set on something much more lethal if they would consider killing Spyro and Cynder just for showing up.

Unfortunately for Corin, he wasn't exactly watching where he was going. With a defining crash, he sent a crate toppling down to the ground, garbage spewing out across the alley as the sound echoed and broke the peace of the otherwise quiet night. Both voices immediately silenced, and Corin knew that they were both staring down the alleyway toward him, knowing that they were no longer alone.

Corin drew in a short breath, fully expecting the conspirators to come charging around the corner any second. His body tensed up, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. Straining his ears, Corin thought he could just make out the distant tapping of retreating footsteps, the conspirators evidently frightened off by the possibility of guards.

Realizing that someone else might have heard the commotion, Corin quickly doubled back, heading along the shortest possible route home short of flying. Within minutes, he was slipping back around the side of his own home and scaling the wall back up to his bedroom. No sooner had he swung his window shut than he heard the heavy wings beats from overhead. Peering out, Corin saw a squadron of dark shapes glide overhead before turning away to sweep another sector of the city. He had made it back home safely, with not a second to spare.

Still breathing hard, Corin wandered over and all but threw himself down on his bed. His mind still raced with what he had inadvertently discovered. It was common knowledge that Celtac politics were prone to some form of corruption and backstabbing. Alliances formed and broke between the Assembly members regularly, although the past nine years had seen nearly all members flock to one of two camps. That of the Overseer, or the General.

And now, there seemed to be something afoot to discredit one of those camps. At a time when any major shift in politics could leave them vulnerable to an outside force. Corin had to tell his father, he just had to. Taurus himself wouldn't be stupid enough to attempt a coup, but if there were other players on the field.

But wait... If Corin said something to his father, he would have to admit to breaking curfew. After that, he very much doubted that he would get permission to leave the house, much less the city itself. Not to mention the fact that if spreading rumors were what the conspirators were planning on doing in the first place, he would be handing them ample ammunition to do so with.

Still mulling over what to do, Corin began to feel the beginning of sleep at long last take a hold of him. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would tell Lycinda what he had overheard. She would have some advice for him, that was for sure. As for Spyro and Cynder, they ought to be safe enough, as the conspirators seemed to think that they would be more useful alive for the time being. Anyways, they would be gone tomorrow anyways, and be of free of the tangle of politics rapidly forming around them,

"It'll work out in the end." Corin thought blearily. The Defilers were a real threat, not the conspiracy. But if Corin could get to the bottom of this before telling his father, he could just imagine how much recognition it would bring him. The last thought before darkness claimed him was the expression of shock and humiliation on Valdus' face, and the glowing pride and adoration that Lycinda would shower down upon him. And with that happy thought, he finally drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Dark Shadows

A brisk chirp rang through Spyro's ears, slowly dragging the dragon back to consciousness. Blinking in the bright light that was now flooding the cell, he sat up, rubbing his eyes as he let out a yawn. Shaking his head, he stood up, careful not to disturb Cynder as he stepped away. A bright blue bird was perched in between the bars of the window, hopping and pecking at what ever bread crumbs had been left over from Laindon's visit. Noticing Spyro, the bird gave a startled squawk, leaping off the edge without so much as a single second hesitation. For several seconds, the bird circles outside he window, perhaps hoping that Spyro would soon leave and that it could resume its breakfast.

Spyro heard another yawn as Cynder stirred from the floor beside him. Tearing his eyes away from the window, Spyro looked down at her as she stretched out on the floor. Rotating her neck to try and pop out some of the kinks that had formed from the lack of any sort of cushioning, she gave a half-hearted grin. "Good morning Spyro."

"Good morning Cynder." Spyro replied in kind. "I hope I didn't wake you up just now."

"No, I've actually been awake for a while." Cynder said, standing up straight at last. "But there's not much else to do in here without someone to talk to."

Spyro nodded absently, turning back to stare out the window again. He had to give the Celtacs some credit, Clarity was not a bad city to live in despite not having any earth dragon constructions. The houses closest to them looked luxurious enough, and even the lower hovels that belonged to the Artisans looked decent enough. An array of noises drifted in through the window, sweet bird songs welcoming the morning, the distant clang of metal on metal, and the ever present buzz of dragons going about their daily business. If you ignored the shanty town that was just visible over the far wall, it seemed that most dragons here had a relatively stable and secure life. Except...

"Cynder?" Spyro asked, still fixated on the city at large. "Don't you think that we should maybe..." Spyro paused, trying to think of the right words. "Help these dragons? Help them against what ever these demons, or Defilers, or whatever they're called."

Cynder didn't immediately respond. Instead, she walked over to stand next to Spyro, laying a consoling paw on his shoulder as she did so. "Spyro, look at me." Spyro did so, twisting his head to met Cynder's steady gaze. "This isn't our fight. We need to get back home, where the Guardians are waiting for us. Where your brother is waiting for you. We can't afford to be dragged into some other conflict that wasn't ours in the first place."

"But how is it not our fight?" Spyro protested, pointing out the window. "Those are dragons out there, dragons that won't be able to hold out forever if these Defilers are anything like what I've heard about."

"Dragons that support a system of exile? Laindon's been the only one so far not to do a double take at the color of my scales." Cynder shot back, scowling slightly. The scowl slowly faded away, and Cynder averted her eyes. "Sorry, that came out a bit harsh. They certainly don't deserve to die."

"But Cynder, think about it." Spyro pressed. "If we stay for just a little longer, we might be able to even help with the caste system. Maybe if we gain their trust fighting against the Defilers, we could find some way to help Laindon and the other Tainted."

Cynder snorted. "Excuse my skepticism Spyro, but I hardly see General Taurus listening to a word either of us have to say, even if we march into their nest and destroy these Defilers singlehandedly."

"Well, maybe not him." Spyro conceded. "But the Overseer could be more sympathetic. And still, we can't help the Tainted if everyone gets slaughtered by a Defiler attack."

Cynder's paw slid from Spyro's shoulder, landing limply on the floor in between them. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Cynder rubbed her eyes with a free paw. "Spyro, I want to help, I really do. If we managed to beat Malefor, I'm sure these Defilers are not going to be that much of a threat." Sweeping her tail idly across the dusty floor, Cynder spared one last look out the window. "Look, if they actually ask for our help, I'll consider it. Otherwise, I want to get out of here as soon as possible, before they find another excuse to lock us up."

Spyro looked away from the window, knowing that Cynder had brought up some good points. The Celtacs were a very proud and stubborn group from what he had seen of the city so far, unwilling to accept help from two outsiders. General Taurus in particular would take umbrage to such an obscure notion. But at the same time, when it came down to the wire, could Spyro really stand to just abandon these dragons to their fate when he could do something to aid them? He still didn't know the answer to that question.

With a series of rattles and scrapes, the sturdy metal door jerked and swung open. Careful not to make any sudden movements, Spyro turned around to face the open door. Standing there and flanked by four more imposing guards was the captain from yesterday, bright red arm band still tightly secured to his right foreleg. Clearing his throat, the captain's voice issued into the cell. "You both have been summoned before the Assembly to hear your verdict. You will stay within the bounds of this escort, and do not attempt to-"

"To resist or escape." Cynder finished, rolling her eyes. "We already know the drill, so can we get going already?"

The captain glared at Cynder, but didn't bother to scold her for the interruption. Stepping back, he allowed the two dragons to step into the corridor and leave the cramped cell behind them as they wound their way through the prison corridors. With the captain in the lead, a guard on either side and another two bringing up the rear, there was little opportunity for either Spyro or Cynder to make a break for it. Even if both dragons had cooperated thus far, the Celtacs were clearly not taking any chances.

If Spyro had to guess, he would say that this prison was much newer than the domed Assembly Hall it was attached to. As such, the two buildings weren't actually connected, as carving out doorways might compromise the dome. Hence, the procession had to step outside and work their way around the outside of the Assembly Hall through the warrior district. Still surrounded on all sides by stern faced guards, Spyro and Cynder strode down the center of the carefully swept street, two story mansions rising up on either side of them.

The guards had apparently also learned from yesterday's events as well, as only a few civilians stood around to silently watch the two dragons being escorted down the street. It appeared that the guards had taken precautions to cordon off the route they toke this time around, as indicated by the pair of guards standing at every street corner they passed. With all the security for such a simple task, Spyro could see why Cynder was so uneasy about remaining in the city.

Sneaking a sidelong at the dragoness beside him, Spyro was glad to note that she didn't seem to be too concerned about the additional guards. She was looking up, squinting at every ledge and tree branch that they passed under, looking unperturbed by any of the nearby guards. The only sound in the air was the constant tramp of the guard's footsteps, not even the leaves stirring in the still air. Just as Spyro was about to look away, he saw Cynder frown, now staring into the wide, empty sky.

Drifting closer, Spyro whispered to Cynder, hoping that the captain just a few feet in front of them wouldn't overhear. "Everything alright Cynder?"

Cynder looked back at him, still obviously troubled. "It's fine. I was just wondering where all the birds went all of a sudden."

Before Spyro could respond, a crystal clear ring echoed through the city. The procession slammed to a halt, the dragons all looking equally confused at the noise. The guards exchanged glances, and a storm of nervous whispers quickly broke out among them, the words too rushed and indistinct for Spyro to catch any more than a few sparse words. The whispering was silenced just as quickly as the captain held a clenched fist aloft, tilting his head to listen to the sound.

The bell continued to ring, the sound carrying clearly through the peaceful morning air. Before long, a second bell joined in, this time coming from somewhere behind the dragons. Another bell quickly added to the cacophony as well. And then another. And another.

"What's going on?" Spyro shouted over the din, trying to get the attention of the captain. This didn't seem to be a normal morning ritual of the Celtacs, not with the way all the guards were acting. Something had happened, and whatever it was, Spyro doubted it was good.

Turning around, the captain barely spared either young dragon so much as a glance, focusing instead on the guards that flanked them. "Return the prisoners to the cells, then report to your posts." The captain barked, commanding instant attention from those present. Strong paws suddenly grabbed at Spyro, yanking him off his feet and dragging him along as the guards hurried to obey, the captain following close behind. Twisting about in a desperate attempt to free himself from the crushing grip, Spyro managed to slip free, stumbling along back down the street. Beside him, Cynder had been similarly seized, the black dragoness growling at the invasive contact. Although none of the other guards made another move to grab him, they tightened their ranks, and an unguarded tail accidentally collided with Spyro's side. Tripping, the purple dragon fell to the street, his tongue narrowly avoiding being chopped in two as his jaw connected with stone. Picking himself up, Spyro just happened to glance upward towards one of the rooftops, still rubbing his now sore jaw as he did so. And that's when he first saw it.

There was...something there, crouched against the flat tile roof. It was as if darkness had been given a corporeal form, a piece of the void granted limbs, head, and tail to carry out its insidious desires. Whisps of darkness peeled away from the being's body, twisting briefly in the bright sunlight before vanishing to nothing, only to be instantly replenished by a new tendril. And those eyes...two burning red orbs piercing through the veil to stare out at the world with an alien and emotionless stare. A stare that bored unblinkingly right into Spyro.

Tilting its head back, the Defiler let out a shrill screech, causing the dragons below to all wince and reflexively cover their ears. All except for the captain, who had the presence of mind to instead take aim. A bright beam of white light sliced through the air, barreling right towards the vague outline on the rooftop. But even as Spyro watched, the red eyes blinked shut, and the creature seemed to dissolve, the smoke expanding out into a black cloud, allowing the solar beam to harmlessly shoot off into the sky. The shapeless cloud writhed and boiled for a split second before suddenly streaking towards the street. A few feet off of the ground, the smoke turned in on itself, condensing back into a semi-tangible mass. A set of curved talons scratched at the stone as the Defiler landed before them. The red eyes appeared upon the Defiler's narrow head once again, and the creature's maw opened to let out a defiant hiss at the dragons, exposing a set of jagged teeth. Spyro didn't need any first hand experience to know that both the teeth and claws were very solid and more than capable of inflicting some serious harm if he happened to stray too close.

A blur of motion out of the corner of his eye caught Spyro's attention, managing to divert his gaze away from the demonic presence standing before them. A second cloud of smoke spewed onto the street from a nearby alleyway, two more red eyes fazing into existence as another Defiler materialized from somewhere within the darkness. Scanning around, Spyro saw at least four more Defilers appear on the rooftops around them, staring down at the group of dragons below with an intense hunger. They were surrounded.

The Defiler in front of them lunged forward, and the spell that held both sides in check was broken. Beams of light streaked through the air, cutting and slicing through the black clouds as the Defilers descended from above. Red eyes blinked and flashed out of existence, the Defilers able to easily avoid each of the guards' blasts due to the unstable nature of their construction. To his left, Spyro saw the Defiler from the alley advancing on a guard, a menacing hiss of air forewarning of its approach. Turning in surprise, the guard acted instinctively, letting out a ferocious roar as he swung at the dark shadow.

But even as the guard did so, Spyro saw the blood red eyes blink close. Before Spyro or anyone else could react, the dark smoke easily bent around the guard, winding its way up his arm and condensing above his back. Reforming in midair, the Defiler came crashing down, easily pinning the similarly sized Celtac to the ground. The Defiler's head snaked forward and Spyro saw the brief flash of white teeth before they buried themselves deep in the dragon's neck. The guard let out a chocked yell, struggling vainly against his assailant. Digging its claws into the dragon's sides, the Defiler gave a sharp twist, and the dragon's neck snapped with a loud crack. Dropping the limp head to the ground, the Defiler slowly turned, droplets of viscous blood slowly dripping from its mouth and claws as the twin red orbs settled on Spyro.

Still stunned by the suddenness and ferocity of the attack, Spyro reacted on instinct. Changing his elemental stores into scorching embers of flame, he opened his mouth, sending a concentrated fireball towards the Defiler. The fireball connected, exploding into a blossom of orange and red as the Defiler let out a shriek of mixed pain and surprise, the force of the impact enough to send it tumbling backward off of the guard's corpse. Before Spyro could press his advantage, the creature dissolved and rematerialized several feet away, shaking off the blow as it reevaluated him.

Realizing that he had caught the creature temporarily off guard, Spyro formed a quick plan of action. Stepping around the still warm body of the guard, he pelted out several more fireballs in rapid succession. But the Defiler was ready for him now, the creature meticulously bending around or simply passing straight through each of his volleys, drawing closer and closer with every materialization. Spyro was running out of room, and the red eyes were staring down at him, the creature nearly close enough to strike.

Deciding that the creature was close enough, Spyro sprung his trap. Switching techniques, a bright yellow flash accompanied by a booming roar tore across the street, the lighting bolt arcing between the two combatants in a matter of seconds. The bolt struck the unlucky Defiler dead center, electricity rippling across the dark shape like a raging thunderstorm. The Defiler went flying, crashing back to the ground next to the alley from whence it emerged. The smell of burnt ozone still strong in the air, Spyro charged up another bolt, preparing to finish the creature off before it could vanish again.

"Spyro! Look out!" Twisting about, Spyro saw a billowing cloud rising up on his right. Red eyes sprung open, and before Spyro could defend himself the Defiler slammed into him, knocking the purple dragon to the ground. Spyro felt the air leave his lungs, the heavy weight resting on his chest preventing him from drawing in another breath. Twin red lights shone down on him, even as the single row of razor sharp teeth descended down toward him. Spyro shot his forepaws up in the air, his claws scraping against a solid mass within the writhing cloud of darkness, but it was a futile gesture. The Defiler was too close, and any second now he would meet the same fate as the guard at the points of its incisors.

A blast of brilliant light burned into Spyro's retinas, his scales instantly heating up to an uncomfortable degree, almost like he was being burned. The Defiler reared back, clawing against the pillar of light eroding away at its figure. With a final, intense flash of light, Spyro felt the weight lift from his chest, the red eyes fading to nothing as the smoke burned away, leaving no trace that it was ever there in the first place. Spyro glanced around, expecting to see the Defiler reappear somewhere nearby, but the moment never came. The Defiler was dead.

Still trying to clear the images burned into his vision, Spyro pulled himself back to his feet, searching for wherever the next threat would rise from. Blinking his eyes, the street before him finally shifted back into focus.

The first thing he noticed was Cynder, several feet in front of him, her head jerking left and right in search of a target. Relief swept through him as he noted that she didn't appeared to have been injured in the ambush. Next, he saw the remnants of the guards, clustered near the center of the street, each of them watching the dark recesses of the shadows for any sign of movement. Then, Spyro saw the bodies. Two of the guard had been slaughtered, their inert forms laying motionless where they fell. Spyro felt his stomach lurch as he noticed another body, that of a dragoness that had been unable to retreat back to the relative safety of her home in time. Her empty eyes gazed blankly at him, blood still seeping out of the the gaping wound in her neck to add to a rapidly expanding puddle on the empty street. Of the Defilers, there were none, the survivors having retreated and any of the dead having been vaporized into nothingness by the intense solar beams leveled against them, assuming that such creatures left any bodies behind in the first place. But it was only going to be a matter of time before more Defilers arrived, Spyro was sure of it.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Watch the roof tops and alleys." The captain ordered, clutching a blood soaked paw to his shoulder. The two surviving guards grimly nodded, focusing fully on detecting any traces of movement that might indicate another wave of Defilers. Turning his attention away from his surroundings, the captain's eyes fell on the two young dragons, apparently noticing them for the first time. "We need to move you back to your cell, quickly, before they come back."

"Not until you tell us what's going on." Cynder demanded, standing her ground against the captain. Her face was set in a determined grimace, her eyes scrutinizing the captain, analyzing him. She wanted answers. "Just what are these things anyways?"

"The city is under attack, and I need to make sure that these demons don't get any further." The captain spoke, overriding Cynder's inquires. "The both of you will accompany us back to the prison, and you will stay there until it is safe to leave. This is not up for debate, shadow dragoness, you will either follow my orders willingly, or you will be dealt with as I see fit." The captain finished, addressing Cynder directly for the first time, making no effort to hide the thinly-veiled threat.

Cynder bristled with indignation, but before she could respond, a single roar broke the silence, two more haggard and openly bleeding dragons swooping in from above, their tired wings beating heavily against the air. The prison guards relaxed slightly, one of them raising a paw in a brief greeting. Sighting the captain, the two airborne dragons circled back around, flaring their wings in preparation for landing.

It was over in less than a blink of an eye. A dark cloud suddenly surged upwards from a rooftop, the Defiler latching onto one of the dragons in midair. Unprepared for the sudden addition, the dragon plummeted, vainly trying to claw the dark creature as they fell. With a bone-crunching impact, the grappling pair landed, the Defiler cushioned from the blow by the white dragon pinned beneath it. Taking careful aim, Spyro lined up a shot on the Defiler's vague head, preparing to send a long sliver of ice to put an end to the creature before it could do any more harm.

But he was already too late. With a swift flash of claws, the Defiler dispatched the crippled dragon with a divisive swipe across the neck. Glancing up and realizing that it was hopelessly outnumbered, the Defiler dissolved back into smoke form, weaving in and out of the complex maze of belated solar, ice, and poison projectiles fired its way. Slipping back away through a gap between the houses, the Defiler was gone, leaving only the motionless body of another light dragon in its wake.

With an audible thud, the other dragon touched down, turning around to look back in despair on what had become of his less fortunate friend. Tapping his claws impatiently against the ground, the captain quickly regained his composure. "Solider, report!" The dragon didn't respond, still staring blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused, still trying to comprehend what had just happened. Grumbling under his breath, the captain limped forward, roughly grasping and shaking the shell shocked dragon. "Snap out of it solider! I said REPORT!"

The dragon blinked, slowly tearing his eyes away from the sight of his dead comrade to look at the captain uncertainly. Shaking his head as if waking from some bad dream, the messenger slowly relied the missive. "T-t-they're flooding the marketplace. Killing c-civilians left and r-right. We need to...to...to reinforce that position. Overseer's orders."

"To hell with the Overseer, what's the General say?" The captain scowled, showing little concern for the soldiers slow, stuttering speech.

The messenger tilted his head, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tried to recall the necessary information. "G-general Taurus is leading a cou-counterattack to the North Gate. That's where he b-believes most of the...the Defilers are."

The captain leaned back, a confident smirk appearing on his rugged face. "Good, the north is easily defensible. Go alert the General that I'll be with him shortly, and that I'll be bringing up reinforcements from the rest of the city to assist."

"You're not just going to leave them!" Cynder exclaimed, drawing the disgruntled stares from all four remaining Celtacs. "You said these Defilers were killing civilians in the marketplace, right?" Cynder jabbed an accusing claw at the messenger, causing the dragon to nervously gulp and look away, staring back at his companion's body.

"I'm sure they need your help just as much as Taurus does, probably even more." Spyro agreed. "Aren't you suppose to protect the residents of this city?" Spyro pressed, trying to appeal to the captain's sense of duty. If things in the market were as bad as the messenger said, then they didn't have much time before there was no one left to save.

"Silence!" The captain bellowed, glaring down at the insolent dragons. "You two are not anyone's superiors, you're prisoners! And if the General says most of the Defilers are to the north, then we're to fight to the north, not the market. And," the captain seethed, wobbling precariously on his three remaining legs. "If either of you so much as speak out again, I may be forced to-"

"Contact! Captain, four Defilers in the street!" All the dragons looked up, even as the guards backed up to join them, just in time to see four more dark clouds drop down to street level.

The Defilers advanced on the dragons, two of them beginning to circle around to flank both sides of the motley group. Pushing his way to the front, the captain glanced around at his beleaguered squad. "What are you waiting for!? Fire!"

Spyro took a step back, shielding his eyes from the bright beams of light simultaneously firing off in all directions. The Defilers jumped back, one of them letting out a shriek as a beam found its mark. But at very least, the Celtacs seemed to be holding the line, as the Defilers were forced to retreat half a dozen paces to reevaluate tactics.

A dark shadow loomed out of the corner of his vision, and before Spyro could turn and fire, it was upon him. He felt a sharp tap to his shoulder, and the dark shadow resolved itself into Cynder, the dragoness looking at him urgently. As he tried to calm his suddenly racing heart, Cynder drew in close to him, her voice hushed as to not draw attention. "Fly."

Spyro frowned. "Fly?"

"Yes, hurry, before they turn back around." Cynder nodded at the Celtacs, the light dragons preoccupied with the Defiler assault. Spreading her magenta wings, Cynder leap into the air, leaving Spyro standing back on the street watching her go. After sparing one last glance at the captain and his guard, Spyro unfurled his wings and followed suite.

Almost immediately, the sounds of battle died down, becoming nothing more than a dull buzz in the background. Leveling off several hundred feet above the ground, Cynder hovered, waiting for Spyro to catch up to her lofty position.

Setting into formation besides her, Spyro held position, gazing out over the besieged city. Turning to face Cynder, Spyro raised a quizzical eyebrow. "So...why exactly did you want us up here Cynder?"

"To find where the marketplace is." She muttered in return, scanning the streets far below. "You heard what that messenger said, they're getting slaughtered over there and no one else seems inclined to help."

"Didn't you say that you would prefer to stay out of this conflict?" Spyro inquired, studying Cynder carefully for her response.

"This is different." Cynder shot back. "Just because I don't like their military doesn't mean that all of those civilians deserve to die."

Spyro nodded grimly in agreement, glad that they were at least taking some action. While he had remained hopeful that he could convince the captain otherwise, it appeared that Cynder was quite correct in the guard's apparent disinterest. If the Defilers were wrecking havoc in the marketplace, it looked like it was going to be up to the two of them to put a stop to it. Before even more innocent lives were lost.

The city was in chaos. The sky was pierced by periodic pillars of light, shooting upwards wherever the Celtacs were making a valiant stand. A couple of houses were rapidly disappearing into a pulsing red inferno, the flames always on the verge of leaping onwards to consume the next dwelling in the tightly packed streets. Outside the city walls, Spyro could just barely make out the shantytown where Laindon and the other Tainted resided, the area only remarkable in its complete absence of any conflict. And perhaps most troublesome, Spyro could plainly see more black clouds gliding from rooftop to rooftop, searching for their next prey.

There. Motioning to Cynder, Spyro pointed, indicating what appeared to be a gap in between the otherwise unremarkable rows of houses. It didn't look like much, but Spyro could just barely make out what appeared to be the canvas roofs that made up the merchants stalls and storefronts. That had to be the marketplace.

Tucking his wings in close to his body, Spyro dived, picking up some airspeed as he honed in on the location, Cynder close behind. Furling his wings and swooping back upwards, Spyro shot through the air, tilting slightly to execute a graceful bank around the Assembly Hall. As they drew in closer, there could be no doubt that it was indeed the marketplace, overturned boxes of produce and goods laying abandoned in the middle of the street, surrounded by what looked like...

With a chilling sense of dread, Spyro realized what he was looking at. The bodies. Every dozen or so paces lay an inert form, a puddle of crimson staining the otherwise pure white scales of each dragon as they lay there in the dusty street. Young, old, male, female, it didn't matter. They had all been caught completely unaware by the surprise assault. Spyro wanted to look away, but he couldn't. This wasn't a battle; this was a massacre.

Swallowing his feelings of revulsion at the sight, Spyro forced himself to look back up, scanning for any signs of life. They couldn't be too late, there had to be someone left, someone still fighting to survive. They just needed to find them amid all the carnage.

A beam of light shot up from somewhere up ahead, instantly drawing Spyro's attention. Readjusting his course, Spyro closed in on the source, making sure to watch the rooftops on his approach to avoid an aerial ambush. Cynder still close behind, Spyro soared over another section of marketplace, the scene folding out below them.

A cluster of a dozen or so Celtacs huddled against the wall of a tall building, cowering away from the darkness lurking before them. A few of the civilians stood away from the wall, vainly trying to protect the children and elders with sporadic light beams. But one thing was for sure, these were no trained soldiers. Most of their shots went wide, or were easily dodged by the Defilers that stood against them. The six dark masses slowly advanced on the cornered group, taking their time to advance, their red eyes watching their prey patiently, knowing it was only a matter of time before they would close in for the kill.

But Spyro wasn't going to let that happen. Folding his wings, he dived toward the grouped Defilers, picking up speed as he barreled towards the ground. The air around him grew warm, flames racing along his scales, turning his vision orange and filling his nostrils with smoke. Spreading his wings at the last second to slow himself to a manageable velocity, Spyro impacted the ground in the middle of the Defilers with tremendous force, the cocoon of flames exploding outwards, the fire burning everything in the immediate radius, including several of the Defilers, the creatures closest to him picked up and thrown through the air by the blast. As the smoke cleared, Spyro straightened up, readying himself as six pairs of red eyes settled upon him.

Cynder, on the other hand, preferred a much more discreet approach. Following in the aftermath of Spyro's firebomb, she flared her wings and bared her claws, crashing headlong into one of the Defilers. The two black forms bounced and rolled across the cobblestone street, nearly colliding with the line of astonished Celtacs as they did so. But with an almost inaudible *poof* the Defiler dissolved, leaving Cynder to tumble to a stop beside the speechless Celtacs. Shaking it off, Cynder regained her footing, watching as her opponent reappeared several meters away.

Having recovered surprisingly quickly from the two dragons' sudden appearance, the Defilers sprung into action, two of them shifting back into dark mist and streaking towards Spyro. Gritting his teeth, Spyro drew from his earth element, the ground quacking as a simple earth wall burst up in between him and the Defilers, just as the creatures solidified. Spyro heard a harsh scrape as claws tore at the stone, the Defilers letting out confused cries at the sudden obstacle. With another burst of energy, Spyro sent the wall skidding backwards, knocking the Defilers back. Black smoke seeped around the edges of the wall as one of the Defilers passed around it, but the other one was a shade too slow. With a loud crunch, the wall slammed against a neighboring building, the hastily constructed earthen barrier crumbling apart to allow a dazed Defiler to slump forward, alive, but seriously wounded. At least Spyro hoped so, they needed to thin out the Defiler ranks before the element of surprise completely wore off.

The second Defiler leaped toward him, teeth and claws outstretched as it lunged for Spyro's throat. But it had made a fatal error, it was still fully formed as it closed in on the purple dragon. Confident that this would be a quick kill, Spyro charged up a lighting bolt, this time making sure to use enough volts to fry every last particle of the demon before him.

Spyro fired, but the Defiler was a hair quicker on the uptake. Expanding out into a broiling cloud, the Defiler shifted upwards a few feet, the lighting bolt passing away underneath it. Dropping down on Spyro from above, the creature's eyes seemed to shine with a dull triumph, having successfully lured Spyro into its ploy. At the very last second, a blur of green slammed into the being's side, sizzling at the contact and knocking it out of the air. Landing limply in the ground beside Spyro, the Defiler didn't stir, the remnants of the acidic poison dripping on to the street.

Looking around, Spyro spotted Cynder a short distance away, a relieved look crossing her face as she saw that he hadn't been hurt. Giving her a curt nod in thanks, Spyro was about to look away when he saw it. A swirling vortex commencing behind Cynder, the dragoness unaware of her peril. Reacting on instinct, Spyro fired, a silvery icicle whistling through the air towards his target. His aim was perfect, the icicle piercing the shoulder region of the Defiler just as it reformed. Whirling around, Cynder quickly followed up with several additional blows from her claws and tail, driving the creature back.

Knowing the she would be able to handle herself, Spyro quickly tried to locate his next target. Although there didn't seem to be much left to deal with. Two of the Defilers had already been neutralized by either him or Cynder, she was fighting the one he had just impaled, and the remaining two were being pushed back by the rallying Celtacs, who seemed to be encouraged by the unexpected aid. This fight was almost over, it was a good thing there had only been five Defilers to begin with-

Something slammed into Spyro's back, sending the purple dragon sprawling. Tendrils of darkness flickered past his vision and he heard a sinister hiss of air close to his ear. Red hot rods of pain streaked through his sides, and Spyro let out a brief cry of agony as the sixth Defiler dug its claws into his sides. Blood ran freely down his scales, and Spyro knew he had mere seconds before his neck was snapped like the guard from before. Gritting his teeth, Spyro poured energy from himself into the ground below him, praying that this maneuver would work.

An earth column jutted upwards, sending Spyro and his assailant flying. Managing to twist himself half free from the Defiler's deadly embrace, Spyro pushed back as they landed, trying to gain the upper hand. Thankfully, this Defiler appeared to be smaller than the rest of its ilk, and Spyro was able to gain a small bit of leverage over the struggling creature. The Defiler hissed and kicked, its claws creating several shallower cuts across Spyro's chest. As the pain from his injuries continued to mount, Spyro knew he had to do something to end this duel, before he would be too grievously wounded to continue fighting.

A black limb wavered in front of his face, and Spyro took the only action that came to mind. He opened his mouth and clamped down on the appendage. The rich, metallic taste of blood danced over Spyro's tongue as the Defiler shrieked and writhed in pain. A second later, Spyro's jaw clapped shut over thin air as the Defiler fled, the cloud retreating a dozen feet before reforming. Spitting out the blood, Spyro rose unsteadily to his feet, starring at his opponent before him.

The Defiler held its left foreleg aloft, swaying unsteadily on its three remaining legs. To Spyro's surprise, it let out a defiant snarl, crouching as it prepared to leap at him once more. Suddenly aware of his rapidly diminishing elemental supply, Spyro resolutely readied himself for the next round.

It never came. Just as the wounded Defiler flung itself forward, a shimmering wall of translucent silver light phased into existence in between them, the Defiler deflecting harmlessly off its smooth surface. Stumbling away, the Defiler shook its head as the wall faded from sight, leaving no trace of it being there at all. Before either of them could react, a volley of solar beams streaked towards the Defiler, ricocheting off the ground and nearby walls as the creature was forced back. With a final, malevolent glare towards Spyro, the creature dissolved into smoke, slipping away between the toppled merchant stands and into the darkness of the alleys beyond.

"And don't come back!" A familiar voice yelled out, the speaker stumbling forward to all but collapse next to Spyro, panting heavily from his exertions.

Spyro cocked his head, staring down at the exhausted white dragon. "Corin? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me." Corin sniffed, taking several deep breaths to steady himself. "And boy, did you two happen to show up at the right time back there."

"That's twice now I've saved your hide." Cynder said tartly, giving a pointed glare down to Corin as she stopped next to Spyro.

Slowly standing back up, Corin quickly looked away, not quite willing to meet her gaze. "Oh, thanks... I guess." Corin stammered out, his speech slightly slurred. He still looked a little queasy, a little nervous even, standing there in the middle of the destroyed street, his eyes twitching as he tried not to glance further down, towards where the bodies of his fellow citizens lay. It took Spyro a moment to identify the expression that briefly flashed across the young dragon's face. It had been a while, but Spyro could still remember when he had felt the same. Corin, the relatively sheltered warrior caste dragon, was in shock.

The light rustle of whispering caught his ears, and Spyro half turned, noticing the remaining Celtacs still bunched up near the wall where they had held their last stand. Curious eyes of youngsters peeked out from in between the legs of their elders, in sharp contrast to the wary looks directed their way from the adults. Stepping toward the civilians, Spyro gestured to the overturned marketplace. "Listen to me, you all need to leave here, seek some kind of secure shelter. Before they come back."

The dragons all exchanged hesitant glances, no one seeming brave enough to speak up. Finally, a wizened old dragon carefully stepped to the front, wobbling uncertainly on aching joints. Squinting at Spyro, the old dragon slowly shook his head. "Your concern is admirable, purple one, but we will be fine. I'm sure the city guard will be around shortly to make sure that we're well cared for." The remaining dragons nodded in agreement, seemingly relieved that the old dragon had spoken up.

"They're not coming." Cynder announced, causing a sudden hush over the assembled crowd. "They have orders to defend the north. No one will be coming for you, we need to find a safer place to hold out against this assault."

"She's lying!" An adult dragoness suddenly screeched, pushing her compatriots aside in her bid to be noticed. "She's trying to trick us, I just know it!"

The crowd rapidly disintegrated into a shouting match, with comments directed at either the defiant black dragoness or the accusing white dragoness who had dared call her out. Spyro winced at the cacophony of noise, shooting a concerned glance upwards to the mercifully empty roof tops. If they attracted the attention of another Defiler death squad...

Unable to have her voice heard, Cynder gritted her teeth in frustration. This was the thanks she got for stepping in to save their lives? Maybe she should just held out into the Tainted shanty town, at least they might treat her with a tad of respect.

"Wait! Wait, just everybody, listen!" The fighting ebbed, and the dragons all turned to face the speaker. And to Cynder's surprise, the voice had come from behind her. Turning, she saw Corin standing straight, holding a still lightly trembling paw in the air as he pointed to them. "You... You said they had orders to defend the north. Whose orders exactly are they acting upon?"

"General Taurus." Spyro replied tersely, taking advantage of the momentary silence to have himself heard.

"Oh." Corin gulped, rubbing a single paw across the base of his neck as he did so. "In that case, we might be in trouble."

"I still say she's lying." The dragoness sneered. "I'm not going to risk my daughter's life on the word of a shadow dragoness." The daughter in question clung tightly to her mother's rear leg, quickly hiding her face as the crowd briefly glanced her way. The rest of the dragons all shifted uneasily, none of them willing to contradict the other dragoness. Even the ones that seemed to believe Cynder and Spyro were unwilling to do anything apart from staring down at their feet. They all knew that there was safety in numbers, and none of them were going to dare split the group up. They were at a stalemate.

Shaking her head, Cynder turned away from the stubborn display. "Come on Spyro." She said dejectedly, lightly tapping him on the shoulder with her lightly bloodied tail blade. "There's going to be other dragons around here that need our help."

"Less prejudice ones, I hope." She finished mentally. After a quick check of his still bleeding injuries, Spyro sighed before turning away as well, stepping around Corin, the other dragon barely noticing him, seemingly caught up in internal deliberations. Trying to erase the image of the Celtac eyes watching his every motion. That proved to be easier than expected, as another burst of pain quickly overrode all other thoughts. In addition to numerous shallow cuts, he had three small puncture wounds from the Defiler's claws, a steady flow of blood slowly leaking from each to drop down to the stone below. It was bad, but Spyro knew he would have to carry on. He had faced much worse after, although

flying would be unbearably painful, a fact that he was glad that Cynder had apparently noted. And there was also the matter of his rapidly dwindling elemental stores...

"Wait." The two dragons stopped, Cynder's eyebrows arching in obvious surprise as she looked back. Corin still stood in the same place, halfway in between the two dragons and the group of Celtacs. The warrior caste dragon studied them with his hazel eyes, still trying to come to terms with whatever he was arguing with inside. "You're going back out there? To see if anyone else is still alive, right?"

"Of course." Spyro responded in a heart beat. What exactly was Corin playing at here?

The white dragon glanced back towards the other group, still patiently waiting for the reinforcements that wouldn't come. Looking back to Spyro, Corin gave a curt nod. "In that case, I'm coming with you."

"Really?" Cynder asked, sounding genuinely surprised at Corin's decision. "You know it's probably safer hanging back with the rest of those stuck-up dragons you call friends."

"I know." Corin replied, dragging himself forward to meet up with the other two dragons. "But one of my friends is out here somewhere. I don't know if she's hurt or-" Corin shuddered, unable to finish the sentence. "I need to find her. I need to know."

Spyro was struck by the sudden conviction that came into Corin's voice. Despite being completely unprepared for the horrors this day held, he was still willing to risk his life to find his friend. Regardless, it would be nice to have someone else watching their backs. Especially since Spyro's injuries would be a real obstacle toward continued fighting.

Turning the corner and entering back into the main market sprawl, the trio wound their way cautiously through the street, paying close attention to the rooftops and alleyways. They were all on edge, knowing that another pair of red eyes and silver claws could be lurking just out of sight, ready to leap into ambush. Of the Celtacs, there was only the dead, glassy eyes watching the dragon's slow procession. The Defilers didn't show any mercy when it came to exterminating their foes.

"Hey Corin," Cynder asked, making sure to keep her voice hushed in the empty expanse, hoping that something would alleviate the tension. "Tell me, why didn't you and the other Celtacs didn't just take to the air when the attack started."

"Too surprised I guess." Corin responded in an equally low tone. "It's dangerous too, you never know if there's a Red-Eye crouched on the roof top above you, just waiting to pull you back down."

"And besides," he responded, a phantom of a grin briefly gracing his lips. "I'm a warrior. We don't run from fights. Never. If I had even though of fleeing skyward, I would-"

A scream suddenly cut him off, the noise sudden and shrill in the deathly silent street. All three dragons immediate jumped to attention, whirling around to locate the source of the disturbance. A head of them, a figure barged out of the front door of a house, moving at such a pace that Spyro barely held himself back from accidentally launching a fireball at the fleeing figure. It was an adult Celtac female, several long, jagged cuts running down the sides of her face as she stumbled out into the street. Behind her, an ominous cloud of smoke seeped out of the doorway, the signature red eyes phasing into existence a moment later.

The dragoness took off without much of a second thought, quickly ascending up and away from her pursuer. The Defiler watched her go before its eyes slowly slid down to the three dragons still standing in the street. The creature gave a short bark, exposing its incisors to dragons before dissolving, fleeing away down the opposite end of the street.

"Oh no you don't!" Cynder challenged, immediately taking off into pursuit, leaving Spyro and Corin in her wake. Reforming every few feet, the Defiler continued to travel down the market street with incredible ease, slipping in and around stalls and never staying in one place long enough for the dragons to line up a shot. But Cynder was not to be deterred. Keeping pace with the creature, she dashed down the alley way that it dove into, claws scrapping at the cobblestone as she ran heedlessly after the Defiler.

"Cynder, stop! Don't follow it!" Corin called out, but she was already gone. Without much choice, they followed her, vanishing within the depths of the alley.

Catching up to Cynder, they all watched as the Defiler stopped and turned around to face them. Squinting in the dim light, Spyro suddenly saw movement in the shadows behind the Defiler, as three more pairs of eyes suddenly shone through. The Defiler had found reinforcements.

"Don't worry, it's just four of them." Cynder called back, watching the Defilers carefully, waiting for them to make a move.

Spyro nodded, heartened by Cynder's reasoning. They were only outnumbered by one, but they could easily make up for that with their vast array of elements at their disposal. Then, Spyro felt a shaking paw grab at his shoulder. It was Corin, and he wasn't even bothering to look at the four Defilers in front of them. Instead, he was looking upwards.

With a chilling sense of dread, Spyro and Cynder looked up. Darkness spread out from each of the neighboring roof tops, leaving only a narrow strip of blue sky overhead. Glittering orbs of fiery red light lined the edges of the rooftops, looking down at the dragons below. Spyro tried to count how many there were, but quickly lost track after the first dozen pairs he counted. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

"There's too many." Corin whimpered, his voice wavering. "There's just so many." He repeated, taking a single step backward towards the still open alley exit.

Noticing the movement, Spyro shook his head an infinitesimal amount. "Corin, don't run. They'll kill you before you get a dozen paces away."

But the white dragon wasn't listening. "Too many..." He said again, real fear in his voice. He was going to bolt, Spyro could feel it, and when he did, Spyro knew the Defilers would pounce. Spyro reached out a paw, trying to calm the dragon. They needed to work together if any of them were going to live through the next five minutes.

A deafening screech echoed through the confines alleyway, and Spyro winced. Corin didn't hesitate, took several more steps back, looking between the dragons and the creatures gathered above. And before Spyro could do anything else, Corin turned, and ran.

The Defilers in the alleyway leaped forward, even as two more descended from above. All six closed in on the purple and black dragons, forcing them to forget the rapidly retreating form of the white dragon, who seemed to at least be widely ignored by the gathered darkness. Spyro knew they would only have one shot of getting back out into the open and out of the jaws of the trap, and he took it without hesitation. Pressing himself against Cynder, he drew on his last reserves, the ground shaking beneath the dragons as the Defilers closed in. It was now, or never.

At the last possible second, the slab of earth they stood on rose up and shot toward the exit. The slab crumbled almost immediately, but the velocity that the dragons were already traveling at was more than enough. Flying back out into the sunlight, Spyro and Cynder rolled on the street, a billowing sandstorm of dust following them out of the alley. Steeling himself against the pain, Spyro forced himself back up, readying for the coming fight.

Corin was no where in sight, and Spyro had no idea of knowing if he had actually managed to escape with his life and limbs still intact. The horde of Defilers were descending from the rooftops and emerging from the alleyway, quickly surrounding the two dragons. Without a shadow of hesitation, the first Defiler threw itself at Spyro, teeth and claws glittering in the sunlight. Spyro ducked his head, catching the black mass on his horns. Coiling his body, Spyro shoved back, succeeding in temporarily forcing the creature back. But another was already charging him from the side, not even bothering to shift to smoke form as it did so.

Spyro dealt a swift tail strike on the demon, knocking it aside. Spinning around, Spyro tried to line up a fireball with his next foe, but only a few embers stuttered out of his open maw. His maneuver to escape the alley had used up the last of his powers, and now he was vulnerable. All he could do was try to hold out using physical strength alone, but that was a bleak prospect at best. But it was all he had left.

Meanwhile, Cynder was fairing slightly better. Separated from Spyro, she had used her own waning powers to generate a whirlwind around herself, which was enough to give the Defilers pause. But it wouldn't last, and in another minute she would be in the same boat as Spyro. They needed a way out, something to successfully break the Defiler ranks. They needed a miracle.

The winds were ebbing, and the Defilers were getting braver, slowly inching forward, cautiously advancing upon Cynder. She let out a defiant roar, crouching as she prepared to meet them head on.

A Defiler leaped toward her, but before it could reach her, there was a blinding beam of light, and the Defiler let out a pitiful scream as it dissolved to nothing. Blinking in surprise, Cynder looked around as more beams rained down on the mass of dark creatures, forcing them to cower and retreat. The sky was filled with Celtacs, the dragons swooping and diving as they fired off round after round of solar beams. The city guard had finally arrived.

With a crash, a squadron of three crashed to earth a few dozen feet away, scattering the remaining Defilers surrounding Cynder. Cynder let out a relieved breath, allowing herself to relax. They had survived.

The sigh of relief caught in her throat as she noticed the blood red chest plate, the paper thin scar on the left cheek, and the unflinching azure eyes of the dragon that landed closest to her. Raising a single, razor sharp claw, General Taurus pointed toward her. "There, apprehend the escaped prisoner immediately. I want her alive."

The two Celtacs closest to him advanced forward, squaring up their shoulders as they marched towards the bewildered Cynder. What were they even thinking! The Defilers had been broken, but they were far from subdued. They needed to focus on them first, they needed to save Sp-

Struck by a sudden though, Cynder whirled around and felt her heart plummet through the bottom of her chest. She couldn't see Spyro anymore. All she could see was a mass of jet black smoke, interspersed with red eyes, all clustered around where she had last seen Spyro. A roar tore itself from her lips and she pushed herself forward, leaping towards the mass of black, trying to do everything in her power to reach the spot where she knew the purple dragon was. Adrenalin pulsed through her system, granting her speed and strength she never knew she had. They would make it through this, they couldn't have come so far just to have it end like this. She had to save Spyro, she had to-

A sharp blow exploded against the back of Cynder's head, and she fell, her skull striking the ground again with a sickening crack. Her strength slowly began to ebb out of her, flowing out of her limbs and draining away into the rivers of blood that ran down the streets. She...had to...keep moving... save Spyro...she had to save Spyro...

The last memory Cynder had was of a Defiler emerging from where Spyro fell, claws dripping with tiny jewels of red blood.

**A/N: Update, I am not dead! Yay! For those of you wondering, I had a very busy holiday and an even busier second semester at school, so I haven't had a whole lot of time to write. I'm also going to be really busy for the next three weeks, so next update will probably take another four weeks to get out. Or who knows, maybe it will be sooner, I had no clue. But stay tuned, the story is only just beginning. **


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